


Corner of the World 23: Adoption Scare

by serafina20



Series: Corner of the World [25]
Category: Smallville
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-13
Updated: 2011-03-13
Packaged: 2017-10-16 22:18:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 22,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/169941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/serafina20/pseuds/serafina20
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lionel Luthor has Clark taken from the Kents in an attempt to  teach Jonathan a lesson.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Corner of the World 23: Adoption Scare

"Lex," Martha greeted Lex as she let him into the kitchen. She glanced around, as if expecting Clark to appear. "I wasn't expecting you. Were you coming for dinner?"

Lex shrugged, looking tired. "That's not why I came, but I'd love to stay if I'm not imposing."

"Of course not. I have enough food for one more, especially considering how little you eat." She ran a critical eye over him. "You really ..."

"Are on a diet that was prescribed by my physician years ago which I follow strictly," he finished for her with a small smile. "Damien and Mabel both make sure I stick to it, so don't worry."

She tilted her head. "Why are you on a diet?"

He smiled ruefully. "Because if I wasn't, I wouldn't eat. Or, if I did eat, I wouldn't eat anything that was good for me. My last year of college I survived on tortilla chips, soda, and Scotch. I don't mean not to eat, but I get caught up in things very easily and food sort of slips through the cracks."

Martha sighed and patted him on the shoulder. "You need someone to take care of you."

Lex frowned. "I have people."

"I mean someone who isn't a servant. Not that I don't think Mabel and Damien do a good job, but there is a difference between being taken care of someone who is paid to take care of you, and someone who does it because they really care about you."

Lex glanced at the floor, uncomfortable. Shrugging, he said, "Oh. Yeah. I guess." He cleared his throat. "I don't really like it too much. I like being self-sufficient."

Suddenly a pair of arms wrapped around him from behind. He jumped slightly, startled.

"Don't listen to him; he likes being taken care of," Clark's voice said next to his ear. Soft lips pressed into his temple. "He just makes it really difficult sometimes."

"I like keeping everyone on their toes," Lex responded flippantly, turning his head.  
 _Or you have the need to test me. Make sure I'll take care of you no matter what,_ Clark whispered into his mind.

Lex didn't answer.

Kissing him gently, Clark released him. "I didn't know you were coming over. Are you staying for dinner?"

"Yes, I am. Your mother invited me." He tried to sit in the chair next to Clark, but found himself pulled into Clark's lap.

"What's for dinner, Mom?" Clark asked, laying his head on Lex's shoulder.

"Spaghetti."

"Whohoo!" he cheered softly, bouncing Lex on his knee. "Mom makes the best sauce in the entire world."

"And you've compared it to what other sauce?" Lex asked teasingly.

"Uh, Pete's mom, and the school cafeteria, and Ragu, and the diner in town, and Denny's, and we went to ... uh, some restaurant once that had really bad sauce. So, yeah. My mom's the best."

Lex laughed, relaxing slightly in the arms of his lover. "Well, you must be right then. You've had such a wide range of experience."

"You wait, Lex," Clark told him smugly, arms tightening around Lex's waist. He nipped Lex's neck lightly. "When you taste it, you'll know I was right."

"Then I'll just have to be patient."

"Yes, you will."

Smiling, Lex closed his eyes, leaning further into Clark.

"Hey." Clark shook him a little. "You ok?"

"I'm tired. I've had a long day."

"Where were you? I tried calling you earlier, but only got your voice mail."

Sitting up, Lex rubbed his eyes, glancing at Martha. She was standing over the stove, trying to pretend she wasn't listening to their conversation.

"I was in Metropolis. A ... an associate of mine is in the hospital and it was important that I got a chance to see him."

"Hospital? What for?"

Lex snorted. "His sister poisoned him. I had to figure out if my father coerced her into doing it, or if she acted of her own accord."

Martha pulled a head of lettuce from the refrigerator and began washing it. "His sister?" she asked incredulously.

"Yeah," Lex answered, nodding. "There's not a lot of love lost in that family. The only reason she was staying with him was he felt it was his duty to take care of her. She recently suffered a," his lips twitched, "great loss."

"What kind of loss?" Clark asked.

"It was Victoria, Clark," Lex answered.

"Ah." Clark fell silent. "I didn't know she had a brother."

"Half-brother. He works for ... well, officially he works for my father, but he's been helping me out. Normally, I wouldn't have been so worried about him, since my father is taking care of him, but Dominic is important to me right now. He's the one who's been helping me with your adoption files."

Clark cleared his throat, resting his arm casually on the table. "Oh? What's going on with that, anyway?"

"I'd like to know, too." Martha tore some lettuce of the head and dropped it in a bowl. Wiping her hands on a towel resting on the counter, she walked over to the table and sat down, eyes expectant on Lex's face.

Lex found that his chest was tight. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out his inhaler; he'd been using it a lot today. "Dad had Dominic file the report on Friday. They've been working on uncovering case files--all doctored by Dad, of course--and Clark's records. They can find him in a few computers, but since they don't have his actual file, they can't verify that the child you have is really who you say he is." He took a few puffs of air.

"What does that mean?" Clark asked, fingers digging painfully into Lex's thigh.

"Someone from the Department of Social Services should be coming to take you to Metropolis on Monday."

Martha inhaled sharply. "Well," she said after a moment. "We have been waiting for this."

"He'll be safe. You'll be safe," Lex said, turning to face Clark. "I have the file right now. The plan is to let them look for a couple days while Dad flaunts his power over your father, then Damien will take the file back. There are no gaps in any of your records, no way that anyone can ever mistake you for the kid Dad's made you out to be."

"Who's that?" Clark asked hoarsely, eyes on Lex's throat.

"His name Samuel Rivers. Dad made him up, saying that he was kidnapped from a day care in Gotham twelve years ago. Dominic showed me all the paperwork created on the case and the kid; it's all false, but they won't know that. The only way to prove that you are or aren't him is to go through your file and verify their authenticity. And, as I said, Damien has taken care of that." He touched Clark's cheek lightly. "You going to be ok?"

"I'm fine. You'll take care of me," Clark said. He sounded forced.

Martha rose from her seat and walked over to the boys. "Clark, honey, if you're upset ..."

"I'm not upset." Clark placed Lex in the seat next to him and rose. "I need to do my chores. I'll be back for dinner." Then he was gone.

Lex looked up at Martha. "I can stop this right now."

"Don't," she responded. "If you do, and Lionel does anything worse to either you or us, Clark will never forgive himself."

"I don' t want him to be so scared."

"Lex, he's fifteen. He's going through a lot. And now he has this to deal with. You know how afraid he is of being left alone. Of being abandoned, or taken away."

He nodded. "Yeah, I know." Worrying his bottom lip, Lex sighed. "I'm sorry."

Martha smiled sadly. "Thank you, Lex. But it's not your fault. "

"How do you know?" Lex asked, rubbing his eyes. "My dad is vindictive. The only reason I can think that he's doing this is because he doesn't want me and Clark together. He knows about me and Clark; this could be a way to punish me. Dominic said it was to punish Mr. Kent, but ... I don't understand why. It's not like he's done anything."

There was a long silence. Martha moved so she was sitting in the chair next to Lex. Facing him, she tentatively took his hands in hers.

He flinched in surprise, but didn't pull away. Her touch was ... comfortable in a way he hadn't experienced since his mother died.

"Don't tell anyone I told you this. Jonathan doesn't want you to know, even though I don't understand why. I think what he did was very noble, but he's funny when he comes to you. You know that, but this is ... well, this is different. And I think that he's being foolish." Leaning closer to Lex, as if imparting to him a grave secret, she said, "Do you remember when you came to us after your father beat you?" Martha fumbled over the word slightly, squeezing his hands as she did.

Lex's breath caught in his throat with humiliation. Averting his eyes, he nodded slowly.

"We didn't tell you. We felt it would upset you more and, as I said, Jonathan is funny when it comes to you. But your father came here looking for you the next day, after I had taken you to the hospital."

"What?" he gasped, looking back at her. He'd been convinced his father had never given him a second thought.

Martha nodded. "He spoke to Jonathan. I suppose if he'd seemed the least bit sorry or concerned about you, Jonathan would have been less ... harsh, I suppose. But not only did he not seem repentant, but he said some insulting things about my husband. Jonathan felt that you were still in danger from Lionel so, as he was leaving, he told your father that if he ever touched you again, he would have to deal with Jonathan. That's what made your father so angry. That's why he's doing this to us."

Closing his eyes, Lex shook his head slowly. "He shouldn't have. Really."

"Lex, you didn't deserve to be treated like that. And even though Jonathan isn't sure of you, he knows that you didn't. That you are better than that; better than your father. So he extended his arm of protection, as meager as it might be."

"Mrs. Kent ..." Lex said, feeling helpless. "Don't you see, then, that this is still my fault? Only now it's worse, because I ..." He pulled away, tucking his hands under his armpits.

Martha reached out and stroked along Lex's head. He shivered at the touch, tensing a bit. His head was beginning to ache slightly.

"Jonathan made a choice. He chose to defend you. He could have chosen not to say anything, but he didn't. You shouldn't feel responsible for his decisions, any more than Clark should feel responsible for the damage the meteors have caused to the town. It was out of your control."

"If I hadn't have come ..."

"I'm glad you came," Martha cut him off firmly. "And if you're ever hurt again, or need help, I hope that you feel comfortable enough to come to us again." She rested her hand on his shoulder. "Lex, you're part of the family. You and Clark have such a close connection and bond. I ... feel it's our duty to take care of you, just as you take care of Clark." Biting her lip, she glanced out the window, then back at Lex. "You've had a lot of privilege in your life. So many things have been handed to you, and have been easy. But I still feel that you've lacked certain necessities. Like real friends. And supportive parents."

"My mother was supportive," Lex told her hotly.

She nodded. "I'm sure she was. And I didn't mean to imply that she was lacking in any way. Your father on the other hand ... he's done some damage."

"What? And it's up to you to see that the damage is repaired?"

"Why not? You have Clark, you have me, and, in a way, you have Jonathan. Your father may be powerful, but he isn't a Kent."

"Neither am I."

"But a Kent loves you. And you love him. That's enough." Rising, she dropped a kiss on his head. "Don't blame yourself, Lex. Don't feel guilty, and don't be tempted to ward yourself off. We need you to help us get through this. If you start hiding behind your Luthor upbringing because you feel guilty, Jonathan won't understand and he'll lash out. And we need to depend on each other, at least for the next few days."

Sighing, Lex rested his head on his forearm. "I'll try."

"That's all anyone can ask," Martha replied softly. "Now. Do you want anything special for dessert?"

"Brownies?" he asked, not very hopefully.

"I think that can be done. Why don't you go find something to entertain yourself while I finish up dinner. It should be another half hour or so."

"Yes, ma'am." Lex rose and went to the door. Pausing slightly, he said, "Thank you," very quickly, before leaving.

He thought he heard her say something back, but he was gone to fast to really be sure.  
***

"He's not coming in," Lex said, glancing out the door.

Jonathan shook his head. "No, it doesn't appear that he is." He checked his watch. "He's been out there for over an hour and a half now."

Martha sighed and rubbed her eyes. "What are we going to do?"

"I'll call Damien, tell him to give Social Services the file."

"No," Jonathan responded. "No. We're prepared for this. I don't want to know what Lionel will do to us if he doesn't get to crow over me tomorrow. Don't do anything, Lex." He took a sip of his drink, then glanced out the window. "Would you mind staying the night over?"

Lex blinked in surprise. Glancing at Martha, he said, "What?"

"It's raining pretty hard out there, and I'm sure some of the roads are pretty slick. We have a good excuse for your staying over, and I know it will help Clark feel more secure." Jonathan smiled a Lex a little grudgingly. "You do that for him. You might as well do that for him tonight."

Clearing his throat, he nodded. "Yeah, I can spend the night. And I swear on ... on Clark's safety that I'll obey every rule that you've set for us. You, uh, don't need to worry about that." He grinned ruefully.

Raising an ironic eyebrow, the farmer responded, "Thank you, Lex. I would hope you'd act like a perfect gentleman around my son." He rose. "I need to get ready for bed. Mind getting him in the house?"  
"Sure."

Martha rose as well. "I'll fix up the guest room for you."

Lex glanced around the living room. "I ... is it ok if I sleep down here? That way Clark can be with me and ... he doesn't fit into his old bed." Lex smiled ruefully. "There's no way we both could, and if he's too agitated, I'm going to have to be able to touch him."

Hesitating, she glanced at Jonathan.

"The reason you want me to stay over is to help keep him calm, right?"

"Right," Jonathan said slowly.

"Well, I need to be with him to do that. I'm not even going to suggest we stay in his room, and I've already outlined the problem with the guest room. If we're down here, Clark and I can be close to one another, and be in a relatively open space. We'll be alone but within reasonable distance to the two of you."

"Ok," Martha said after a moment. "I'll just get some blankets and pillows for you."

"Thanks." Rising, he smiled in farewell to Jonathan and went outside.

The rain was driving down so hard it almost hurt. Lex shielded his eyes and jogged over to the basketball hoop. After dinner, Clark had mumbled something about playing. He and Lex had shot some hoops--rather, Lex tried and Clark had mildly teased him--until Clark sent Lex inside when it began raining.

Clark was still shooting with a single minded determination. His hair and clothes were plastered to his body, rivulets trickling down as he concentrated. There was an energy surrounding him that was almost tangible. Lex inhaled sharply as he approached his lover, the air growing thick around them.

"Clark?" he called.

"Go inside, Lex! I don't want you getting sick."

"Clark, it's time to go inside."

"I'll be in in a few minutes."

"That's what you said an hour ago."

The ball splashed at Lex's feet. Jogging over, Clark picked it up. "This time I mean it."  
Lex hit the ball out of Clark's hands, ignoring the mud that splashed onto to his slacks. "Come inside. Now."

His stomach lurched when Clark grabbed him, thrusting him roughly against the barn wall. "I'm not ready," Clark growled, attacking Lex's lips.

Lex moaned as Clark lifted him off the ground, pinning him to the wall. He wrapped his legs around Clark, fingers threading through the thick, wet locks, drinking him in.

Clark kissed him as if he would devour Lex. There was nothing gentle or loving in the kiss, just pure, raw intensity that shot directly to Lex's groin, making him hard and aching.

Breaking the kiss, Lex gasped, "Clark. We can't ..." He was cut off when Clark sealed their lips together, tongue battling Lex's into submission.

"I don't care," he growled, one hand sliding between their bodies to cup Lex through his wet slacks. "I need this."

"Clark, no. Please, your parents ..."

"I don't care about my parents!" Clark shouted, slamming him into the wall. The barn shook. "I ...."

"You what?" Lex asked angrily when Clark didn't finish. His back was throbbing, but he ignored it. Cupping Clark's cheek, he demanded, "Clark, look at me."

His breath caught as the teen complied. His Clark was half obscured by something alien and terrifying. His eyes were dark, halfway between the usual sapphire and a new, unfamiliar midnight blue.

For the first time in a long time, Lex realized how powerless he was to defend himself against Clark. Clark, who held him above the ground as if Lex weighed no more than a feather. Clark, who could crush him by tightening his hands ever so slightly. Clark, who could hold Lex down and do whatever he wanted, no matter what Lex said.

Clark, who was an alien.

"Clark," he whispered, voice shaking ever so slightly. _Please, don't,_ he finished mentally.

Clark closed his eyes and took a deep breath. When he opened them again, the alien was buried and the darkness was gone.

"I'm sorry. I'm not going to hurt you, I swear. Ever."

"I know," Lex answered out of habit, trembling slightly as his muscles refused to relax.

Sighing, Clark closed his eyes. "I want you. Right now, against the side of the barn."

"Your parents ..."

"My parents can't even protect me. Look how easy it is to take me away. They ... they just can't. Why should I listen to them?"

Lex slapped him with as much force as he could. It hurt him more than Clark, the reverberations making Lex's bones ache, but he didn't care. The look on Clark's face was enough to let him know the slap had been effective. "Never say that, Clark," he hissed fiercely. "It's not your parents fault this is happening, it's mine. And I couldn't protect you from this either. None of us could. I'm sorry that this is happening, but don't blame them. They are the best things that ever happened to you, not me. If anyone else had found you, you'd be in a laboratory right now, being experimented on. You just managed to find two of the best people in the world to take care of you."

Clark shook his head. "You wouldn't have. You would have loved me."

He sighed. "Angel, if you had come to earth six months ago, before I arrived in Smallville, and I'd found you, you would be in a lab. I would have used you to make my father respect me. And maybe he would have if I'd found an alien to give him. I would have given him something no one else in the world could have, and I'd have used you for all you were worth."

"Why aren't I there now? You have enough power to take me away." Clark's arms tightened around Lex, uncertainty in his eyes.

"Because you changed me, Clark. And now I would do anything to protect you from people like me. Like I was." He kissed Clark gently. "I am so sorry that you have to go through this. For some reason your father thinks this is his fault, but it's not. It all comes back to me. If it hadn't been for me, Dad would have left you all alone. I'm sorry I couldn't protect you."

Clark sniffed, kissing him. "I'm just so afraid that he'll do something to you if he finds out. And I'm afraid I won't be able to protect you."

Lex tightened his arms around his lover, drawing him close. "I'll handle Dad. You just get through the next few days, ok? I'll be fine."

"Promise?"

"I swear."

He sniffed again and nodded, holding onto Lex tightly. "I've never been away from home like this before. Just sleep overs and stuff. Not ... not me in Metropolis with strangers. What if I do something weird, and they find me out?"

Lex stroked his hair soothingly. "You won't. You are a perfectly normal human being who just happens to be an alien. And you have to look really hard to see that. I almost missed it myself, and I was looking very hard."

Clark turned his head and buried his face in Lex's neck. "I love you, Lex," he whispered, breath hot against Lex's skin.

Joy bubbled through Lex's veins, along with trepidation over what tomorrow might bring. "Yeah," he whispered back. "I love you too."

***

A shrill sound broke through the early morning silence. Wincing, Lex drew himself into a ball, huddling against the warm object stretched out next to him, ignoring the ring.

It shrilled again, cutting through his forehead with a furious intensity that made him bite his tongue.

Squeezing his eyes shut, Lex hummed low in his throat, trying to cover the sound.

Next to him, someone groaned.

"Lex! Please answer your phone!" Martha called.

"Shit!" he swore, bolting upright. Wincing at the pain in his neck, he looked around, bewildered. He was still at the Kent's farm, in the Kent's living room. What the fuck?

Clark hit him with a pillow. "Answer your phone," he mumbled before turning onto his stomach and crawling beneath the nest of blankets that were drawn around the two of them.

"Yeah," Lex said vaguely, still half asleep. Pulling his phone out of the jacket on the couch, he opened it. "Lex Luthor." He coughed.

"Where are you?" Damien asked.

He rubbed his eyes, memory returning. "Kents’. Why? What time is it?"  
"Six thirty. We have problems."

Rubbing his eyes, Lex sighed. "What? Has Dominic woken up yet?"

"He was awake for a few minutes last night, but he didn't talk. He seemed disappointed that you left, but happy to see me. The doctor said the heart attack the poison induced was moderate, but it will take a while for Dominic to recover. I was unable to discover if Victoria acted independently."

"I think she did. Dad would have made her do it in a more inconspicuous way, including using drugs that weren't as obvious as the ones in Dom's system."

"Be that as it may, we need to get Mr. Kent's adoption records back to Dominic's apartment. Your father is certain to pick up the file soon."

"I'll bring it up after I drop Clark off at school."

Damien hissed softly. "That is the other problem: you have an appointment with Dr. Pierce this morning."

"I told you on Friday I didn't want to see him again."

"He needs to finish with some preliminary work. You're having more allergy tests this week, and he needs to make sure the anomalies in your blood are gone."

Lex swallowed hard, his hand reaching under the covers to thread into Clark's hair. "You know I can't today."

"Sir, your father must know of your appointment. If you do not meet Dr. Pierce, it will seem suspicious."

"I don't want to see the fucking doctor! I just saw him Friday, and I don't want to see him again!" Lex shouted.

Clark bolted awake, throwing the blankets off his head. He wrapped his arms around Lex, making soothing noises as he stroked Lex's skull.

"Are you all right, Lex?" Martha asked, walking into the living room.

Feeling his face turn hot, Lex nodded. "Yes, I'm fine, thank you."

"Sir?" Damien asked.

"I was talking to Mrs. Kent. Can't you cancel it? Call Dr. Pierce and tell him I can't and we'll reschedule?"

"Lex, are you sick?" Martha knelt in the blanket nest, looking concerned.

"No, I'm not," he told her. Then, into the phone, he said, "I wasn't sick Friday and I'm not sick today."

"Lex, who are you talking to?"

"My assistant."

Martha took Lex's phone, ignoring his protests. "Mr. Walters? What's going on?" She walked away from the boys, nodding. "I see. And ... Really? Is he .... I understand. No, I won't. Mmmmm-hmmm ... mmmm-hmmm. And you think? Yes, I see. But who will be with Clark? Oh you will. Oh! Oh, I see. All right, then. I'll make sure he goes. No, we don't. All right, I will. Thank you. Bye." She hung up and turned back to Lex, who was sitting in Clark's lap. "You're going to see your doctor today."

Lex growled. "Mrs. Kent, I really don't ..."

"Don't argue. Your father saw him yesterday, and Damien thinks it would be best if you went ahead with the appointment. It is what you'd normally do, right?"

"Well, yeah, but only because Damien makes me."

Clark laughed softly and pressed a kiss into his temple. "You need to take care of yourself, Lex. If Damien thinks you should let the doctor examine you, then do it."

"It's just not fair," Lex sighed, resting against his lover. "I feel fine. I don't need," he broke off in a yawn. He and Clark had talked until about one, and it had taken Lex awhile to fall asleep after. "I don't need to see him."

Martha sighed and sat in the nest. "Look, I need you to go and see him."

Lex opened his eyes. "Why?"

"Because there were traces of poison in your father's bloodstream yesterday. He was feeling sick around lunch and called Dr. Pierce to see him. He's all right, but Damien and I would feel better ..."

"Dad was poisoned?" Lex sat up, heart pounding.

She nodded.

He rubbed his eyes. "How?"

"I don't know. All I know is what Mr. Walters told me, and he didn't know much." She moved closer. "Look, Lex, I know you hate going to the doctor, but we need to know that you're all right. Maybe you haven't been poisoned, but don't you think you would be better able to concentrate on Clark's wellbeing if you knew for sure?"

Lex laughed softly. "There's no way I could have been poisoned. For one, I feel fine, and two ... I haven't been poisoned."

"Then go see him because if you don't, your father will get suspicious and bring in Samuel Rivers' parents, drawing this thing out longer than it needs to be," Martha told him, voice hard.

Clark held Lex tightly to him. "What if there really were abnormalities in your tests, Lex? I want to know now. Otherwise I'll worry."

Sighing, Lex pulled away from Clark and stood. "Fine, I'll go."

"Thank you," Clark sighed.

He smiled faintly. "You owe me."

"Yeah. I know."  
***  
"How have you been feeling, Lex?" Dr. Pierce asked as Lex stripped out of his shirt.

"Fine."

Dr. Pierce blinked. "Fine? Perfectly fine?" He pulled out his stethoscope and placed it on Lex's chest.

"Why the fuck don't you ever warm that thing?" Lex demanded, coughing.

The doctor didn't seem to hear him. "Deep breath."

Glaring at the floor, Lex complied. He followed Dr. Pierce's directions and continued to take deep breaths until his head spun and the doctor finally said, "Ok, that's enough. It sounds like you have a very slight congestion in your chest."

"Oh?"

"Have you been coughing? Having trouble breathing? Anything like that?"

Lex shrugged. "Maybe I was coughing a bit, but not noticeably. I feel fine."

Dr. Pierce stuck the thermometer in his ear. "Your temperature is normal." He sounded confused.

"Yeah?" Lex was profoundly uninterested. "Have you figured out what the anomalies in my blood are yet?"

"Hmmm? Oh. Oh, no, not yet. I'm going to have to draw more blood to check."

Lex raised an eyebrow. "Uh-huh. Why don't you give me a copy of your findings? Maybe I can find something, since you seem to be having trouble."

"Please, Lex, you're a businessman, not a doctor. You concentrate on your specialty, and I on mine." Dr. Pierce walked over to the counter and pulled out a syringe.

Eyeing the syringe, Lex asked, "Does that really do anything?"

"Yes, it boosts your immune system." He injected Lex, who hissed as the cold liquid spread through his veins slowly. "I want to make sure that you aren't sick when we do the allergy tests."

Trying to ignore the pain, Lex coughed and squeezed his eyes shut. "So, tell me again why we have to do more allergy tests?"

"Well, the last round we did said you're not allergic to anything, and we both know that's not true."

"What if it is? I haven't had an asthma attack in forever."

"Lex, one doesn't go from being allergic to everything to nothing in the span of a few months. So, there must be something wrong with my equipment, which is why we're going to Metropolis on Thursday for the next batch. Now, let me go get Caroline, and we'll draw some blood to see what turns up this time." He left the room.

Sighing, Lex lay down on the table. It was cold in the room, and his stomach was queasy. Injections always did that to him.

Closing his eyes, he reached over the bond and touched Clark gently. Clark's mind was partially blocked, nervousness and anticipation clouding his thoughts.

Lex sent a wave of reassurance to his young lover. Clark responded after a moment.

 _Love you,_ Clark whispered softly before the connection broke.

Lex smiled.  
***

 _Love you,_ Clark thought when he felt Lex's mind touch his.

He could feel Lex smiling back when the connection broke. Sighing, Clark turned his attention back to the basketball hoop. Bouncing the ball a few times, he shot.

The ball bounced off the rim and ricocheted off court.

"Nice try," Whitney said, picking up the ball.

"Thanks." Clark caught it as Whitney threw to him.

"Mind if I shoot a few with you?"

"Sure." Clark turned back to the hoop and shot. The ball danced around the rim, and fell out.

Catching it, Whitney smiled. "That was a good shot. Bad luck's the only thing that kept it out." He aimed and sunk the ball.

Clark grinned. "That was better."

Whitney returned the grin. "Yeah, I know." He got the ball. Turning back to Clark, his face turned serious. "Can we ... talk?"

Glancing around at the empty gym, Clark nodded. "Sure. What's up?"

"I just ... I wanted to thank you again for what you did. I mean, it was really good of you. Everything you've done for me this year has been ... well, it's more than most people would have done."

Blushing, Clark ran a hand through his hair. "I haven't done all that much."

"Are you kidding? I mean, besides helping me out with that gang, and getting Luthor to take pity on me, I know you've helped me out with Lana. You were right, Clark. I should have told her about my dad. I just ..." He sighed and dribbled the ball. "I didn't trust her enough. I get that now. She's stronger than she seems." Whitney bit his lip. "Lately, she's been a lot stronger than I ever gave her credit for."

"Yeah," Clark agreed, thinking of how Lana had been since she and Chloe had begun dating.

"Yeah." Whitney cleared his throat. "I, uh, realize that this is totally none of my business, but are the two of you dating? Because she and I aren't any more, and I know that she's trying to keep from hurting me 'cause of my dad and all, but I want you to know that if you are, it's totally cool and I would never do anything to try and hurt you or break the two of you up and I just want her to be happy."

Clark didn't say anything.

Whitney, looking desperate, said, "Look, Clark. I am so very sorry about what I did to you. Really, I am. It was wrong and stupid and I ... Christ, would you just say something?"

Clearing his throat, Clark said, "We're not dating."

"You're not?"

"No."

Whitney turned around and shot the ball. Jogging to get it, he stayed where he was. "I do know right from wrong, but I allowed myself to be convinced that it was ok to grab kids and string them up. It was supposed to be a prank and I ... used my anger to make it more. And that was very wrong. I don't know what I can do to make it up to you, Clark, but ... for what it's worth, I'm sorry."

Clark sighed and went over to Whitney. Taking the ball, he dribbled it, and shot. "I can't say it's ok, Whitney, 'cause it's not. It was terrifying. I was sick and cold and ... it was awful. There's nothing you can do to make it up to me, so don't even try."

"Yeah," Whitney said softly, looking stricken. "Ok."

"Wait, I'm not done." He took a deep breath. "I hate feeling helpless, and that's how you made me feel. But it's over. I'm passed it, and I got through it. And I know that you wouldn't ever do it again. So I guess I forgive you. You, not what you did to me."

"Can you really do that?"

Clark nodded slowly. "Yeah. I can. You're a pretty good guy, Whitney. You deserve better than you're getting right now. For what it's worth, I'm really sorry you lost your scholarships, but I don't think that means you have to have lost your future." Clark shrugged. "You don't have to stay in Smallville if you don't want."

Whitney snorted and got the basketball. "I think you've been hanging around Luthor too much," he said.

"What do you mean?"

Whitney leapt into the air to shoot, landing gracefully in a move that made Clark's stomach clench. Turning around, Whitney smiled and said with a shake of his head, "Rich people have the luxury of making their own destiny. People like me don't. That scholarship was my one chance to get out of this town. Now I'm stuck with the store, taking care of my family."  
Shaking his head, Clark replied, "I think that sometimes you have to make your own future. You didn't ask for that store, and there are ways that you can get free of the town without the scholarship or abandoning your family. You aren't a dumb jock."

"Maybe not, but ..."

"No buts. I'm not saying it's the easy path, but it's not like you don't have any choice in the matter at all. I'm sure that, when all is said and done, your parents would understand." He went to get the ball.

Whitney sighed. "Maybe." He ran a hand through his hair, watching as Clark fumbled the shot. "Wait." He got the ball and jogged over to Clark. Putting the ball into Clark's hands, Whitney placed his hands over Clark's, repositioning them. "You keep pushing the ball over to your right. Try this." Whitney slowly guided Clark's arms in a mock shot.

Stomach clenched, face red, Clark fought to keep his breathing steady. He felt as if he were on fire as his body responded very inappropriately to Whitney's casual touch. Focusing his eyes, he glared at the basket, trying to will the feelings away.

 _I can't be attracted to Whitney fucking Fordman!_ he thought in despair.

"Good. Now shoot." Whitney stepped back.

Taking a deep breath, trying to slow his racing heart, Clark shot the ball.

It sunk neatly through the hoop.

"Great job!" Whitney slugged him on the shoulder, then ruffled his hair.

"Thanks," Clark said, ducking away from his touch. "You know, there's something you can do: coach."

Whitney made a face. "Very funny."

"No, I mean it. You're pretty good."

"You have to go to college to do that. Even if I wanted to be, say, a gym teacher ..." He trailed off.

Clark frowned. "That's what you want to do, isn't it?"

Whitney looked down, shaking his head. "Naw."

He stepped closer to Whitney. "Whitney ..."

"Mr. Kent?"

Clark turned. Principal Kwan was standing in the door of the gym, a pretty woman with long brown hair wearing a dark blue suit next to him.

"Yes, sir?" Clark asked, stomach sinking.

"We need to speak to you. Would you mind coming with us?" he asked.

Clark nodded. "Sure." He glanced at Whitney, feeling a little flushed when he did. "I'll see you later."

Whitney stepped closer to Clark, eyeing the woman. "You gonna be ok?" he asked, putting his hand on Clark's shoulder.

"Yeah, I'll be fine. Thanks." Pulling away from Whitney, Clark got his backpack and went to the two adults. "What's going on?"

The woman smiled kindly as they began walking. "It's nothing to get too worried about, Clark. We're just having some problems that we need to work out. But it won't be that big of a deal. Let's get to Principal Kwan's office before I start explaining things."

"Yeah, ok." Clark felt a flutter of nervousness go through him. Trying to access the bond, he sent to Lex _They're here. It's started._

He wasn't sure if Lex heard him.  
***

Lex jumped out of his car almost before he shut it off. Jogging to the kitchen door, he nodded briefly in acknowledgment to the limo driver before going inside.

"Mrs. Kent?" he called.

"Up here, Lex!" She appeared a moment later, jogging down the stairs. "What happened? I've been calling you for three hours."

He flushed. "I'm sorry, I really am. I fell asleep in my office and didn't hear the phone ringing."

Martha frowned and went to him. "Are you ok?"

"Yeah," he answered, managing not to flinch when she felt his forehead.

"You feel like you have a fever. Are you sure you feel ok?"

"Mrs. Kent, I feel fine," he assured her. Removing her hand, he squeezed it lightly, then dropped it. "Tell me what happened."

Her expression faltered slightly. "They came a few hours ago with Clark. The woman from Social Services--Michelle Hewitt--and the detective from Gotham came together. She and the detective explained what was going on, then had Clark pack enough for a week. They told us that we need to get to Metropolis Social Services by six o'clock if we want to see him before they put him into a temporary home." Martha broke off, her hand brushing quickly over her eyes. "Ms. Hewitt said we need to make ourselves available for questioning if need be."

"I've got you and Mr. Kent the penthouse at the Metropolis Plaza. You can tell them that when we get there. Are you almost ready?"

"Yes. Jonathan and I are packed. What about you?"

"I'll be staying at my apartment in town. I keep clothes there." He rubbed his forehead, shifting his weight on his legs.

"Good." Martha bit her lip. "Clark was scared, but determined not to show it. He's going to be fine, Lex, really. Don't worry about that."

Lex smiled faintly, feeling a headache pulse behind his eyes. Fighting off yet another wave of queasiness, he nodded. "Of course. He's Clark."

Martha returned his smile. "That's right. He is."  
***

 _Monday:_

 _So here I am, at Child Services, taken away from my family by some people who don't believe I'm who my folks say I am, and what am I worried about? Being attracted to Whitney Fordman!_

 _I think I may be seriously messed up. I mean, he's Whitney for God's sake. And ... and I don't like him. I love Lex. Really. There's no doubt in my mind about that and, if I didn't think everyone would totally flip, I'd even say that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with him. And now I'm attracted to another guy. Does this mean I really am gay? Or bi? Should I even worry about it anymore? I like having sex with Lex. A lot. I think it's probably my favorite thing in the world right now, even more than being able to run faster than the wind._

 _So why do I feel weird when I think of myself as being bi? I really can't figure it out, and I have thought about it. I just ... don't like labeling myself. Maybe it's because it's a human label and I'm ..._

 _Anyway. Maybe this is perfectly normal for what I am, which is why trying to categorize myself feels wrong. And just because I'm attracted to him, doesn't mean I like Whitney, right? I mean, he's Whitney. Why couldn't I be attracted to Pete? At least he's my friend._

Clark bit the end of his pen lightly, closing his eyes and thinking of Pete. First he thought of Pete and him hanging out, talking about girls, as Pete was so fond of doing. Then he thought of Pete getting out of the shower after gym.

His stomach clenched.

 _Ok, I think I'm at least a little attracted Pete, so I feel better. And Pete, at least, I could see having a relationship with ... if I wasn't in love with Lex and Pete wasn't so very straight. And my friend. I just really can't see being in a sexual relationship with people who've been my friends my whole life. Which is why I don't get Chloe and her crush on me, but that's not the point. The point is, yeah, Pete's pretty hot, and it's fine that I'm attracted to him. It really doesn't bother me all that much. But ... Whitney? He's ..._

"Clark?" Michelle said, interrupting Clark's thoughts.

He slammed his journal shut and looked up. "Yeah?" Clark asked warily.

Michelle smiled and walked into the room. Sitting on the threadbare easy chair across from Clark, she asked, "How are you holding up?"

"Fine, I guess," he responded with a shrug. "I'm kinda hungry."

"We're getting something for you to eat." She looked at his journal. "What were you working on? You were concentrating pretty hard."

"It's my journal."

"You keep a journal?"

Clark managed not to roll his eyes. "Yeah."

"That's great. What kinds of stuff do you write in it, may I ask?"

He shrugged. "How I'm feeling, things I'm thinking about. Friends. Just normal kinds of stuff."

"Do you want to be a writer?"

"I don't know. Why?" Clark looked up at her, tracing the spirals on his notebook with the tip of his finger.

Michelle tilted her head. "Well, some people start keeping journals because they like to write. Journaling helps them not only learn how to express themselves, but also hone their writing skills. So, a lot of writers keep one, and I was just wondering if it was something you were interested in."

"I dunno. Maybe." He licked his lips. "My best friend is the editor of the school newspaper. She's always trying to get me to write for it, mostly because she thinks I'm one of the few people on campus who can write a coherent sentence."

She smiled. "Have you written anything for it?"

"Not yet, although in January I wrote a fake paper for a school project. She kept harping on me for weeks afterward. I do help her get it ready every week. It's kind of our down time, when we stay late at school, drinking coffee, gossiping, and printing the paper for the next day."

"Is she your girlfriend?"

Clark flushed. "No. Chloe and me are just friends."

"That's nice that you can be friends with someone of the opposite sex. You must be very mature."

He hitched a shoulder. "Yeah, maybe. I don't know." Clark sighed. "Are my parents here yet?"

"No, they're not. I heard there's a lot of traffic on the highway due to a crash. It might take them awhile."

He sighed again, rubbing his forehead. His head was aching ever so slightly. "It's really not fair, any of this. I'm not ... what's his name?"

"Samuel Rivers."

"I'm not him. My parents didn't kidnap me."

Michelle turned serious. "No one is saying that they did, honey. We just got a report that someone who fits the description of Samuel Rivers was living in Smallville under the name of Clark Kent. And, since we lost track of your adoption file, we thought it best if we brought you in for a few days and try to figure out what's going on."

Clark made a face at his journal. "You know, it sounds to me that it's your problem that you lost my file, not my parents."

"Well, it's not only that. The agency they used went under, so we can't even go to the source."

"Huh?" Clark asked, frowning.

"Your parents used Metropolis United Charities to adopt you; the agency was only open six months. While we can still find some of their records, most have either been lost or misplaced. So we're not the only ones who have messed up."

"Look, my birth mother was a friend of my mom's from college. She died when I was three and my parents adopted me. I've never even been to Gotham before."

"Clark, I know this is hard ..."

"This is just so unfair!" he shouted as she leaned into touch him, jerking away from her. His skin was crawling enough as it was; physical contact would just make it worse. At least, that's what he told himself. The truth was, he had felt sick any time she touched him to try and comfort him.

"I know it seems unfair, Clark," Michelle said in what he assumed was supposed to be a soothing voice. "But there are two very sad people out there whose son was stolen from them twelve years ago. We're just trying to figure out what happened to him."

He ran his hand through his hair, swallowing as he suddenly had the urge to throw up. "I'm not him. I'm sorry that they lost him, and all, but I am not Samuel Rivers!"

There was a soft knock on the door. Rising, Michelle went over and answered it.

"The Kent's legal counsel is here. He wants to see the boy," the woman told Michelle.

She nodded. "Send him in."

A moment later, Damien walked into the room. "Ms. Hewitt?"

"Yes. And you are?"

"Damien Walters. I'm serving as the Kent's legal representative." He handed Michelle a card, glancing over at Clark.

Clark rose, setting his journal aside, and stuffing his hands in his pockets.

"It's nice to meet you, Mr. Walters." She shook his hand, smiling up at him. "If you like, we can go into my office and talk about the matter. I'll call Detective Sachar in as well."

"That will be fine. Do you mind if I have a moment alone with my client, first? I wish to speak with him."

Michelle blinked and turned to Clark. "Clark? Do you want me to stay?"

Clark shook his head. "No, thanks. I'll be fine."

"Very well. When you're ready, Mr. Walters, I'll be down the hall. Charlotte can show you the way."

"Thank you, Ms. Hewitt."

Michelle left.

Clark immediately began wringing his hands, stomach tied in knots and head beginning to pound. "Damien, I hate it here. I really don't feel good and she's annoying and keeps asking me all these questions and they took my fingerprints!"

Damien walked over to Clark and put his hand on his shoulder. "Calm down. Take a deep breath and try to compose yourself," he said firmly.

"You don't understand!" Clark's voice was high pitched and he knew he sounded like a kid, but he didn't care at the moment. "I've never had my prints taken before and what if there's something wrong with them? I ...."

"Clark. Calm down." Damien's voice was hard.

Clark closed his eyes and did as he was told. "Sorry," he mumbled when his heart had slowed.

Damien brushed some hair off of Clark's forehead, one hand still on his shoulder. "I understand. And I am sure that your fingerprints are perfectly normal. Nothing will be discovered."

He cracked open his eyes. "You know."

"Yes."

Sighing, Clark swayed slightly on his feet. "Where are my parents?"

"On their way. Apparently Mr. Luthor fell asleep at the office, delaying their departure, and then they hit traffic."

"Is Lex all right?" Clark whispered, feeling queasy.

"I believe so. He ... what's wrong?"

A wave of dizziness rushed over him, making Clark stumble into Damien. "I feel weird. Dizzy."

Strong arms wrapped around him. "You're a little warm. Have you eaten anything since you got here?"

"Not yet. I was hungry, but now I just feel weird." He opened his eyes, resting his head on Damien's shoulder. "I don't get sick," he whispered.

"I know," Damien replied, running a soothing hand over Clark's head. "You may just be over excited. You must calm down."

"I was fine until a few minutes ago. Worried, but I started flipping. Feeling awful. What's going on?"

Damien shook his head. "I'm not sure. But lie down and try to sleep for a bit; we'll wake you when your parents arrive."

"Ok." He tightened his grip on Damien, needing to be held for just another moment. He wasn't Clark's parents or Lex, but Damien was familiar, and right now, Clark really needed that.

Seeming to understand, Damien kept his arms around Clark, rubbing his back gently.

After a few minutes, Clark took a deep breath and pulled away. "I'm ok now," he mumbled at the floor, face flushed.

"Good. Lie down, relax, and I'll be back in a bit."

"Yes, sir." Clark's cheeks were burning up and he refused to look up at Damien. "Thanks."

"Of course." Damien smiled at him, then picked up his briefcase and left the room.

Sighing, Clark kicked off his shoes and curled up on the couch. Closing his eyes, he tried to relax. After a few moments, he drifted off to a dreamless sleep.

***

"What are you doing here?" Clark asked.

Opening his eyes, Lex sat up and looked around him in confusion. "Uh, I could ask the same of you. Where are you?"

Clark was a wisp of smoke, wavering faintly in the darkness of the astral plane. "I'm at Social Services. You?"

"Limo. On the way to see you."

"Oh." Clark curled around Lex as if he were a cat--or a cat's ghost at any rate--brushing lovingly against the sensory network that they used when they fooled around. "I've been feeling really icky. I started to throw a fit, and I don't even know why."

"You did?"

He rubbed against Lex's, pulling him to the ground. "Yeah. I started kinda shouting at Michelle. Then, when Damien came, I got all dizzy and panicky. I don't know why. I mean, I know that you guys are going to take care of me, but I just got this ... this feeling in my stomach."

"Like you were going to vomit?"

Clark nodded. "Yeah." He was becoming more solid, as was Lex.

Sighing, Lex snuggled into Clark. "Sorry about that. I haven't been feeling well, and I've been keeping our bond open because I thought it might comfort you. Apparently, I've been making you sick."

"Why are you sick?"

"I don't know. I was fine this morning, but after Dr. Pierce left, I started feeling off. Not horrible, but not great." He sighed, laying his head back. "I'll stop projecting my feelings onto you."

Clark made a noise, tightening his grip on Lex. "Stay. Just until I wake up."

Smiling, Lex allowed himself to flow into Clark, merging them until they were both happily comfortable in each other’s mind. "Yeah. I'll stay."  
***

"Lex?"

Lex stirred, reluctantly pulling away from Clark. Over the bond, he felt Clark wake also. Sending a wave of farewell, Lex closed it down. He hated to do it, but wanted at least for Clark to feel better.

Opening his eyes, Lex gazed up at Martha. She was kneeling in front of him on the floor of the limo, stroking his forehead gently.

"Hey," he rasped, throat dry.

"Hey." She smiled. "We're here. You feeling well enough to face the government?"

He returned her smile and sat up. "Yeah. Just let me get some water." Leaning over to the mini-fridge, he pulled out a water and downed it quickly. "Did you two want anything?"

"We've been helping ourselves," Jonathan responded almost lazily.

Lex grinned. "I'm glad that you have no problems taking advantage of me when I'm unconscious."

Jonathan just smiled back.

Coughing, Lex finished his water. "Ok."

"Are you sure you feel all right? You're still a little warm." Martha pulled her hand off his forehead, looking worried.

"I feel a lot better than when I fell asleep." Rubbing his eyes, he got out of the limo. "I don't know what happened. I wasn't feeling sick until today," he said, helping Martha out.

"You were out in the rain for a while last night. And you were tired when you came over."

Lex nodded. "True."

Jonathan held the door open for his wife before he and Lex followed her in. Stopping at the front desk, they were informed that Clark was being held on the third floor. They didn't speak as they rode in the elevator, the tension thick in the air around them as they meditated on what was going to come next.

"Sir," Damien greeted him the moment they stepped out of the elevator. "Mr. and Mrs. Kent."

"What's wrong?" Lex asked, frowning. Damien was hard to read, but Lex could do it enough to know something was wrong.

Damien quirked an eyebrow. "We have a slightly unexpected event."

"What happened?" Jonathan asked this time.

"There is an overflow in the system right now, and there was no room for Clark in any of the children's homes. They realized there was a problem early on, and went about searching for a family for him to stay with."

Lex swore, clenching his jaw. "And Dad just happened to hear about it and convinced the powers that be to let him take care of Clark," he finished. "That bastard. We should have known this was coming."

"We were otherwise engaged," Damien responded, obliquely referring to both cleaning up Clark's documents and worrying about Dominic.

"I know, but Dad ..."

"No," Jonathan broke in. "I don't care why you didn't know that he was going to do this, but it's not going to happen."

"At this point, we haven't a choice, sir," Damien told Jonathan. "We are no longer in control of Clark's file?"

"Why the hell not?" he demanded.

Damien took Jonathan's ire in easily. "Nothing has been going exactly according to plan. Our main ally in this is Mr. Luthor's assistant, and right now, he's in the hospital. Mr. Senatori was the one who was supposed to hold the file until Mr. Luthor told him to return it. Since Mr. Senatori in the hospital, Mr. Luthor will want possession of the file himself. I had to take it back to Mr. Senatori's apartment so Mr. Luthor wouldn't realize that it was gone in the first place. Since we no longer have the leverage we need in the situation, we must play Mr. Luthor's game until such time as we make our move."

Jonathan looked like he was going to hit Damien. "Look," he said tightly. "I know I'm a little out of my league here. I'm a farmer, not an unethical businessman. I only know how to do things one way, and that's the honest way. I'm uncomfortable enough with this situation as it is."

"I understand," Damien started, but Jonathan cut him off.

"No, I don't think you do. This is a game to the two of you." His eyes cut Lex painfully. "Part of a larger war that I want nothing to do with. Yes, I got my family into this mess, but the two of you are taking advantage of my mistake to fight Lionel."

"We are not," Lex protested, chest constricting. Gasping against the tightness, he coughed. "I would never," he gasped, "Ever use Clark like that. I ..."

"Calm down, Lex," Martha murmured, sliding her arm around Lex and holding him close. She pulled his head to rest on her shoulder, caressing his back. "No one is blaming you for this. Either of you," she added, looking at Damien.

"Martha ..."

"Jonathan, no. This is not Lex's fault and you know it. I don't want Clark anywhere near Lionel either, but I don't blame Lex for what happened. He's doing his best to keep Clark safe not because of his conflicts with his father, but because he cares about Clark. So back off."

Lex was trembling as he squeezed his inhaler, fighting back waves of nausea as he also fought to breathe. He should have known Dad was going to do something like this. He should have been prepared. He ...

"I can stay with Clark," he said suddenly, voice sounding raw and painful.

Jonathan looked at him. "I thought you were staying at your apartment."

"Not if I can stay with Clark, I won't. Technically it's my house too. I've got my room, clothes, password for the security system, everything. Dad can't keep me out, especially if I play the sick card. I've got the fever and all."

"When did you get sick?" Damien was immediately alert.

Lex shrugged. "I don't know. It's been coming on all day. Look," he said, turning to Jonathan. "I would never use Clark as a weapon against my father. Clark, or any of you. I ... you ..." He faltered, unsure of what to say. "I couldn't do it," Lex finished lamely. "I swear."

"Jonathan," Martha murmured. "Trust him. Please."

Rubbing his eyes, Jonathan sighed. "Fine. But if anything happens ..."

"They'll never find my body. I know." Lex, still leaning against Martha, met Jonathan's eyes, hoping that Jonathan would believe his sincerity.

Jonathan sighed again and nodded. He was about to say something when a young woman with long brown hair walked up.

"Mr. and Mrs. Kent?"

"Yes. Hello again, Ms. Hewitt." Martha walked up to her, shaking her hand.

"I'm glad that you're here. Clark is feeling a bit anxious right now, and I think he'd feel more comfortable if he got a chance to talk to you before Mr. Luthor took him home. I'm assuming that Mr. Walter's told you about that?"

Martha's smile became strained. "Yes, he did."

Looking a bit uncertain, Michelle glanced at Lex. "I'm confused. I thought that Lionel Luthor was going to come for Clark. Aren't you his son?"

Lex smiled and put on his business mask. "Yes, I am. I'm also a friend of the Kent's. His parents told me what was going on, and I agreed to come down to support them."

"You can't take him, though. We need your father's signature."

"I know. I didn't even know that Clark was going to be staying with Dad. He somehow forgot to tell me."

"He didn't tell us that he knew your family. I feel better that Clark won't be staying with strangers; he'll feel better." She smiled brightly. "Did you want to go see him now?"

Damien lightly touched Lex's back.

"I'll be there in a bit. Go ahead," Lex told them.

"Thanks, Lex." Martha squeezed his arm gently, then went with Michelle.

Damien turned to Lex. "What's wrong?"

He sighed. "I don't know. I felt fine when I woke up this morning, but I've been going downhill ever since I saw Dr. Pierce. I took a nap on the way over, and that helped, but my head still hurts and I could use another year of sleep or so."

"You seem a bit warm," Damien said, feeling Lex's forehead. "Are you breathing all right?"

"Yeah, except for the asthma attack. Dr. Pierce said I was a bit congested, but I honestly don't feel it."

"Did he say anything else?"

"No. Just that his last tests showed I'm not allergic to anything--again--and that can't be right."

Damien's eyes narrowed. "I believe it is time to have someone else run some tests on you. I think that something has changed, and Dr. Pierce either can't accept it or your father is studying you."

"Why would he study me?"

"Dr. Pierce has a point when he says that people don't go from being allergic to many things to nothing in the span of a few months."

 

"I know, but so?"

"So, wouldn't your father want to know why this has happened? Don't you?"

Lex tilted his head. "I just figured it was because of my exposure to the meteor rocks and Hamilton is working on anything to do with them"

Damien shrugged. "It could be the rocks. Or it could be due to exposure to something else from the ... general area."

For a long moment, Lex didn't answer. He wasn't even sure he even remembered to breathe.

"Sir, think back."

"No."

"I'm just asking you to accept the possibility that ..."

"No! I'm not going to do anything to him," Lex said fiercely, turning away.

Damien's voice was low yet insistent. "This isn't just about him, sir. This is about you and what he's doing to you."

He stopped.

Sensing that he had Lex's attention, Damien walked closer. "You are healthier than you have been in our entire association. You've only gotten sick once. When you're injured, you heal quickly. Your stamina has increased. You haven't had an allergy induced asthma attack in months. And now something is different in your blood." The heat from Damien's body was soaking through Lex's jacket. "And this all began the moment you began sleeping with that boy," he finished, voice so soft only Lex would hear.

Lex's eyes slid shut. Taking a deep breath, he forced himself to remain calm. When he was ready, he turned around, eyes dead.

Face as passive as ever, Damien took a step back.

Pressing his advantage, Lex walked slowly and deliberately, backing Damien up to the wall. "I won't deny the fact that, remarkably, my heath has improved. And I won't refute the idea that, perhaps, Clark has something to do with that. Maybe he is doing something to me. Or maybe I'm just now being affected by the same meteors that have affected so many of the population of Smallville. Whatever the case may be, Clark is safe. I will not do anything to him to find out what's happening. I made a vow and I intend to keep that vow. Understand?"

Damien hit the wall. Raising an eyebrow, he said mildly, "Yes, sir."

"Good." Lex turned to go.

"But."

Grimacing, he turned back, jaw tight.

"What if the effects are only temporary?"

"What do you mean?"

"You're healthy now. What about weeks from now, months. Years? Who is to say that, in the long run, he isn't making things worse for you?"

Biting his lip, Lex looked away. "Then we'll run tests on me." He looked back into Damien's eyes. "We'll find another doctor, one that we can trust and isn't affiliated with Dad, and have him do whatever he wants in order to find out what's going on."

"And if my concerns are valid?"

"I don't know." Lex shrugged, dropping his mask, his anger, and allowing his assistant to see his soul. "I honestly don't, Damien. He's Clark."

Damien lowered his eyes, nodding slightly. When he raised his head, he looked rueful, almost, self-mocking, and almost grudging. As if he realized that he should have known better than to suggest Lex do anything to Clark.

Raising an eyebrow, Lex smiled at his assistant, letting him know that Lex wouldn't hold it against him.

Behind Damien, the elevator dinged.

"Lex?"

Lex didn't think he'd ever heard his father sound so shocked.

Their look changed. Damien immediately composed his face, one eyelid twitching slightly.

Coughing, Lex turned to his father. "Hi, Dad."

"What are you doing here?" Lionel asked, looking outraged.

"Let's see, the state takes my friend away from his parents and you don't expect me to support them? I think the question is, what are you doing here?"

Straightening his cuffs, Lionel responded, "I heard of the matter, and agreed to watch out of the boy until his identity could be confirmed."

"You set this up, got someone to steal Clark's file, and got your buddies to allow you to take him in for a few days," Lex said with a faint smile.

Lionel returned the smile, saying nothing.

"Why, Dad? I don't get it. What do you get out of all this?"

"I am merely reminding an old friend the debt he owes me."

Rolling his eyes, Lex said, "I think we're passed euphemisms, Dad. What do you have on Jonathan?"

Laughing, Lionel clapped his son on the back. "Lex, Lex, Lex. You don't really expect me to show you my hand, do you? I'm sure you have your little group of pawns scattered around that you don't want me to know about. Why should I reveal mine?"

"I have a hard time imagining Jonathan Kent as a pawn."

"You'd be surprised. Like you, he had a rather wild past. And I know all the details. Even wrote some myself."

Lex closed his eyes, a rush of nausea flooding him. "Dad," he said through a very dry mouth. "We really need to have a discussion on what I want to know about your life, and what I don't. And that ... I don't."

Lionel squeezed his shoulder. "I thought I taught you that there was no such thing as too much information."

"Is that why you allowed yourself to be photographed fucking Victoria?"

Clearing his throat, Lionel stepped away. Straightening his cuffs, Lionel began walking into the main office. "You know about that."

"Of course I know." Lex followed him, Damien trailing behind. "What I'm wondering is why you were stupid enough to let her poison you."

"I didn't know she slipped poison in my drink. She came to my room last night to say good-bye before she returned to London to marry."

Lex frowned. "She's getting married?"

His father's grin was flippant. "She hopes to. When she realized I wouldn't marry her, she remembered someone back in England who might be looking for a wife. Harry cut her off from what little he has left; Victoria is getting desperate. I'd watch your back if I were you. Ah, Ms. Hewitt. Lovely to see you again." Lionel extended his hand to Michelle, who had just emerged.

"Mr. Luthor, may I tell you once again how grateful we are for volunteering to take Clark in. I didn't know that you were a friend of the Kent's until your son arrived. I feel much better about sending him off with people he knows rather than strangers. This is hard on everyone, and he's having some trouble adjusting." Michelle smile sadly, looking sympathetic to Clark's plight.

"Well," Lex said, "You are accusing his parents of kidnapping him, telling him that you have no idea who he is because your filing system is disorganized, and threatening to make him live with people he doesn't know. I can see how he might be upset."

Tucking hair behind her ear, she responded, "Clark has every right to be anxious; I'm not trying to imply he shouldn't be. And we don't know that he's Samuel Rivers; I've been very careful not to say that he is. I would appreciate it, Mr. Luthor, if you not say anything to that effect either. Actually, it might be best if you avoided the subject unless he brings it up."

Lionel was nodding sagely. "They briefed me on how to act and what to say around him. I can assure you that I will do my best to make him comfortable."

"Thank you. Why don't we go in? I just told Clark who he would be staying with."

"And his family is with him?"

"Yes."

Michelle led them into a small room with a couch, a couple of chairs, a television, and magazines. The Kents were sitting on the couch, one on either side of Clark, holding him. His eyes were shut, forehead resting on Martha's shoulder as she stroked his hair lovingly.

"Mr. and Mrs. Kent? Clark? Lionel is here to take him now."

Clark made a noise, arms tightening around his mother.  
 _Clark, it's going to be ok._

 _No. Lex, please ..._

 _This way, we can be together. I won't leave you alone, angel, I promise._

 _You'll be there?_

 _It's my house too, isn't it?_

Smiling slightly, Clark pulled away, wiping his eyes. He looked at Lex and gave him a small smile, before rising, facing Lionel. His blue eyes were hard, gaze steady, jaw set with determination.

Lionel smiled. "Hello again, Clark."

"Sir."

"Might I have a moment alone with them, Ms. Hewitt?"

"Sure. When you're ready to go, I have a few forms for you to sign. You'll need to bring him back tomorrow by ten."

"Of course." He kept the kind smile on his face until she left. The moment the door closed, he dropped the mask, eyes turning dangerous, smile twisting into a leer directed at Jonathan. "Hand him over, Jonathan."

Jonathan put a protective arm around his son. "This isn't proving anything, Lionel. You can take my son away from me for a few nights; I know you can't keep him permanently. He isn't this Samuel Rivers kid; he's Clark Kent, my son, and sooner or later, the truth is going to come to light."

"And where will you be when that happens? Where will he be? I can draw this out for months, Jonathan; years if need be."

Sighing, Jonathan dropped his head. Rubbing his eyes wearily, he asked, "What do you want from me?"

"I want you to admit--in writing--that you are now and forever my property. That whatever free will you had you signed over to me long ago. That I may not force you to serve me, work for me, or dance to my tune, but that is my choice, not yours."

Jonathan's head snapped up as Clark, glaring at Lionel, said, "Dad, don't."

Lionel snorted. "Please. I thought you would do anything for your family, Jonathan. Anything. Can't you do that? Sign a form attesting to that much? It's so very little to ask." He stepped into Jonathan, cupping the farmer's cheek tenderly, forcing him to look up.

Martha made a noise, but Jonathan shook his head. "Stay back, Martha. You too, Clark." His eyes were locked into Lionel's, steady and unafraid.

"I wouldn't make you do anything. I have no need for you anymore, not now, anyway. But you seem to think that because I've let you wander, that you are free. But that will never happen. Once someone is mine, he is mine for good." Lionel gazed into Jonathan's eyes, expression softening. "They're just words, Jonathan. Just say it, sign it, and you get your son back. His file will reappear, Samuel Rivers will disappear, and I will leave you and your family alone. It's so easy. Just do it."

Taking a deep breath, Jonathan closed his eyes. Lex could tell that Jonathan wanted to look at him, but couldn't; they couldn't clue Lionel in to the double-cross. They were already treading close to the line as it was.

 _Don't let him, Lex!_

 _Like I have any control over your father, Clark._

Jonathan took another breath, and opened his eyes. "No."

Face changing, Lionel pulled away and grabbed Clark by his flannel. "Get your bag, boy. We're leaving."

Clark resisted, tearing out of Lionel's grasp. Throwing his arms around Martha, he kissed her cheek, squeezing her. "I'll be ok, Mom. I swear."

"I know, angel," she whispered back.

He kissed her again, then turned to Jonathan. "Thanks."

Jonathan grinned and hugged Clark briefly. "Be good. Show them what a true gentleman is made of."

Nodding, Clark pulled away and picked up his back. Walking to Lionel, Clark looked him in the eyes. "Let's go."

***

Dinner could have been worse, Lex supposed, though he wasn't exactly sure how. Lionel had managed to insult Jonathan, Clark, and Lex in every way imaginable while never explicitly stating anything. In fact, most of what he said would have flown over many people's head. Judging by the look on Clark's face through most of the meal, he wished it would have him. But Clark caught everything and now knew way to much about what farmers were rumored to do when they were bored, horny, or alive. They also both knew more than they ever wanted to know about Jonathan's past. Lex really hadn't minded when Lionel made comments about him, but listening to the barbs at Jonathan ... it had been just a bit too much information. And, it had upset Clark a lot more.

But, they had made it through. Lex had called the meal short when his stomach started lurching at the sight of food, and Lionel, not getting any reaction from either boy, had started getting more graphic. Grabbing Clark's hand, Lex had bidden his father a very icy good-night, informing him that Lionel needn't bother coming anywhere near the two of them if he didn't want to be hurt badly by Lex's publicity contacts and Damien's more violent methods.

With those final words, Lex had dragged Clark upstairs where they had sequestered themselves in Lex's old bedroom over an hour ago.

"You should grow your hair out," Lex said, running his fingers through the dark black locks. "You would look so beautiful with it curling around your shoulders."

Clark snorted and snuggled against him. He hadn't spoken since coming upstairs. He'd showered and dressed in silence, then curled on the bed against Lex, Cal--Lex's old doll--tucked securely under one arm.

"I'm serious." He traced the shell of Clark's ear. "I've always had a thing for guys with long hair."

The dark head shook in a negative response.

"I don't think you're thinking clearly right now." Lex carded his fingers in Clark's hair, massaging the scalp. "If you had long hair, I could wash it for you, spend hours brushing it. Pull it back from your face. Braid it. Drag you around town by it."

"I think it'd be easier to just tattoo 'Property of Lex Luthor, and, why yes, we're fucking' on my forehead. It'd serve the same purpose." Clark asked, lips curving.

Lex grinned and traced Clark's forehead. "It would not. Long hair would make you stand out in a good way; everyone would see you and realize what a perfect creature you are. Of course, only I would be allowed to touch you. That's the best part."

Rolling over, Clark kissed him gently, then rested his head on Lex's chest. "Yeah. It is," he mumbled against Lex's shirt.

"Angel, everything is going to be all right," Lex said, running his fingers through the soft hair again.

"I know."

"Then why are you upset?"

Sighing, he shrugged. "I don't know. I just ... am. Worried." He picked his head back up. "What if he does something to you?"

Ah. So that was it.

Shaking his head, Lex touched Clark's cheek. "He won't. I've told you that he really isn't physically abusive to me. He just got out of control that one time. Besides, Damien will protect me."

"Damien's not here."

"He'll come back. He just ran to the hospital to check on Dominic and to my apartment to get some clothes. He'll be back soon and you'll see that there was nothing to worry about."

"But ..."

"Clark." Lex's tone held an edge of warning to it.

"Lex," Clark responded, voice matching Lex's. His eyes were hard and serious. "I'm strong. I can take whatever your father does to me."

"Oh, and I can't?"

"Not physically. Mentally? I don't know. Sometimes I think that you can handle anything that's thrown at you, and other times, I see that look you get in your eyes, and I just don't know." Clark cupped Lex's face in the palm of his hand. "That look, it's so hard and so fragile at the same time. And I'm afraid that if someone just looks at you wrong, you'll break. I want to keep you from breaking."

Turning his head into Clark's hand, Lex kissed the soft palm. "Nothing my father does to me can break me. I'm free of him, Clark."

He raised an eyebrow. "Really?" There was skepticism in his voice.

Lex nodded. "Yeah. I mean, yes, I wish he loved me better, or differently, or something, but it's not going to happen. I can either dwell on that, trying to find ways to get him to pay attention to me, or I can accept it's not going to happen. It's not who he is." He shrugged. "I've done that. Dad is never going to be the kind of father I wish he was. I don't care. I'm going to be the kind of person I want to be. One that he can't touch, no matter how hard he tries. You have my heart, and as long as you do, he can't get to me."

Crawling on top of Lex, Clark dropped Cal on the bed. "I'll keep it forever," he whispered in between kisses. "And you have mine."

Lex smiled into Clark's mouth. "Always, Clark."

***

A knock at the door woke them from the dreamless sleep they had slipped into.

"Leave it," Clark groaned, rolling onto his stomach.

"It's probably Damien." Lex slipped out of bed, searching for his clothes. Finding them, he dressed, still half asleep.

"Can' he wai' unil morning?" yawned Clark. He buried his head beneath the pillow, curling into a ball.

Shrugging, Lex opened the door.

No one was there.

Frowning, he stepped into the hall. "Damien?"

Half asleep and very relaxed, Lex didn't even see his father slip behind him and slam the door shut. Lex reacted a moment too late, turning to face his father, stepping into the blow.

Stars burst behind his eyes. Gasping in pain, Lex lifted his hands to defend himself. Lionel, though, ignored his face, instead punching him in the stomach. When Lex doubled over, Lionel backhanded him again, tossing him into the wall hard.

"Dad!" Lex managed to gasp through the blood on his split lip. He weakly knocked the next punch away, only to be kicked in the knees.

Lex fell, his father's foot catching him in his bruised stomach.

Then Lionel was on the ground next to him, holding Lex's face almost tenderly. "I'm sorry, son. I never wanted this to happen. I told Dr. Pierce to take care of you so you wouldn't be here. I knew you wouldn't leave your lover's side, and I needed him isolated. But the good doctor apparently can't take orders. So I am reduced to this."

What? Oh. The injections. Feeling sick. It hadn't been anything Lex had done; Dad had done this to him.

He coughed, spitting blood on Lionel's pants. "He followed orders," Lex whispered before his father slammed him into the wall. A crack echoed in Lex's head and darkness began to cloud his vision.

The last thought that crossed his mind before he passed out was, "I'm just stronger now."

***

"Good, you're already naked. That will speed things up," Lionel said briskly as he stepped into Clark's room.

Clark shot up, heart pounding. "What did you do to Lex?"

Lionel smiled and walked to the bed. "I can see what he sees in you.” He twined one of Clark’s curls around his finger. “I've never seen anyone quite as exquisite as you before. And that's not idle flattery. I've been surrounded by some of the world's most celebrated beauties, and none of them has ever been close to the perfection you exhibit." His hand caressed Clark's cheek, down to his neck, smoothing over his shoulders.

He pushed Lionel’s hand off him. "Don't touch me."

"Please," Lionel snorted. He sat. Ran his hand over Clark’s chest. "You know why I'm here. Don't waste our time with clichés.”

His face warmed. Feeling as if he were moving through mud, Clark pushed at Lionel’s hand again. "No. This isn't why ... I thought this was about my father."

"It is. I'm punishing him." He rolled Clark’s nipped between his fingers.

"How is this punishing him?" He looked down. Saw Lionel’s hands on him. Saw bony fingers stroking his skin, tugging at him, but it wasn’t quite registering. It was like he was wrapped in cotton. Like his brain was somewhere else. His body sat in bed being mauled by Lionel, but Clark was somewhere else.

"You know, there was a time Jonathan Kent couldn’t look me in the eyes." He licked his thumb. Pressed it against Clark’s nipple. "He was that ashamed of himself, for what he allowed me to do to him. But now, he's forgotten to hate himself. I can't have that.” His nails scratched down Clark’s chest. “I suppose I could go after him. His farm. His reputation. But he’ll be able to rationalize that. It won’t hurt him, not his very essence. This, though. This will hurt him.”

Clark shook his head.

Lionel smiled wider. "It's the perfect revenge: a son for a son. He thinks he can protect Lex. I will teach him that he cannot even protect his own son. And he'll hate himself for that, more than he would ever hate himself for anything I would do to him." He tugged at the blankets covering Clark’s lap.

"I'll tell."

He hesitated. "Perhaps. Most likely not."

Clark shook his head, a hard smile curling his lips. "I will. I'll tell everyone: Damien, Michelle, the police, the newspapers, television. Everyone will know what you did to me."

He caught Clark's face. "And I will destroy your family. Take the farm, take you, tear the Kents apart."

Staring back calmly into Lionel's eyes, Clark simply raised one eyebrow. He felt more in control, more together. "No. You won't. You can take me away from my parents, take the farm, make them look like kidnappers, it won't matter. Because we're a family and no matter what you do, you will never beat us. And people will believe me, because I've got Lex on my side."

"I'll tell about you and Lex."

"No, you won't. You can't afford it. There's no one to take his place: no heir, no one that you've trained, no one. Either Lex takes the reins of Luthor Corps when you die, or the business goes under."

"What do I care about that? I'll be dead, I'll have made my fortune and my name."

Clark shook his head, chin still held in Lionel's grasp. "Your name won't mean much when your company is gone. And that's what you really care about: immortality. You need Lex to keep your name alive." He smiled. "See. I understand the way the world works too."

Lionel raised his eyebrow. "Beautiful and smart. If only you were a woman, I'd marry you."

Clark made a face.

Laughing, Lionel leaned in. "I am not my son. My inclinations don't often draw me to men. But you..." He ran his eyes lustfully over Clark's body. "You will be a treat."

Clark squeezed his eyes shut as Lionel’s lips connected with his. Sat very still, not responding to the tongue probing at his lips, teeth trying to force his mouth open.

He cast his mind out, looking for Lex.

Lex.  
He ripped himself away. "You bastard!" Clark hissed. The image of Lex’s battered, bleeding body obscured his vision.

Lionel leaned back in, catching Clark’s head. “Calm down,” he whispered against Clark’s neck. His free hand stroked down Clark’s arm. Found his hand and placed it on Lionel’s crotch.

His stomach rolled over. He could feel Lionel’s hard length under his pressed trousers. Feel the way it jumped under Clark’s palm, and it was like he’d lost all his strength because he couldn’t pull away, couldn’t stop, and Lionel was pressing harder against him, mouth devouring Clark’s skin, breath hot and damp and...

Clark couldn't stop this. Couldn’t make his body move. Just sat like a doll while Lionel used him, and, God, please let this be a dream.

 _Dad's going to hate me,_ Clark thought. And that’s when the tears came.

“Yes,” Lionel purred. His wet, hot tongue lapped at the tears coursing down Clark’s cheeks. “So sweet.”  
"Stop.” His hands ineffectually pushed at Lionel’s shoulder. Pushed, clawed, but he was made of gelatin.

And then there was movement. Sound behind Lionel. "Dad!"

Lex.

It was as if a spell had broken. The fear dissipated. The heavy weakness faded and Clark was able to sit up, knocking Lionel off him to the floor. "Lex," he started, looking up.

He saw Lex. And then his mind shut down.

***

"Dad!" Lex exclaimed, swaying on his feet. His head was pounding as the world whirled around him and he fought to keep from throwing up. He could hardly see for the pain; in fact, he only had a vague idea of what was happening. All he knew was that Clark was terrified and that Lex had to get to him.

Blinking rapidly, trying to process the scene before him, Lex suddenly felt the air change and Clark's emotions go from fear to fury. Breath catching, Lex dropped his shields to see what had happened.

He almost regretted it. The moment the shields dropped and he let Clark in, Lex's mind was flooded with words and images almost too alien for Lex to understand. He swayed under their force as Clark, projecting his anger into the world, raced through Lex, filling his mind until he could barely form a coherent thought.

Lex fought to regain control of himself, drowning as Clark refused to let up. Danger pulsed through his veins, adrenaline fighting against Clark, trying to win control.

"Fuck, Dad, get out of here!" Lex croaked, taking a few faltering steps forward.

Slowly, staying on the ground, Lionel began inching away. "What the hell is going on, Lex?"

Clark rose from the bed gracefully, eyes midnight blue. The sheets dropped away from his nude body, revealing the beautiful lines and planes, the flat stomach, the elegant curve of his hip bones, and the hard cock that rose from between his legs. But most of all, Clark revealed the incredible power contained beneath the impenetrable skin as he changed from a mild manner teenage boy into a frightening alien creature.

And he was about to show the power to the man most likely to exploit it. That is, if Lionel survived.

He took a step towards Lionel, who was steadily backing away.

"Lex?"

"Dad, get out, now! I'm serious."

Lionel made it to his feet, stumbling backwards. He almost knocked into Lex as Clark continued to advance, eyes locked on Lionel with murderous intent.

"What the hell is he?"

Rolling his eyes--which caused his head to hurt more--Lex grabbed Lionel by his shirt and tried forcing him out the door. "The meteor rocks. They make people change. Mutate. Damien will explain. Just get the fuck out!" He shoved Lionel, who didn't move an inch. "Clark, no!"

Growling, Clark grabbed Lionel. Desperate, Lex grabbed Clark's arm, putting all his weight on it. He managed to throw Clark off enough so he just pushed Lionel back a little, no more than a normal human.

"Clark!" Releasing Clark's arm, Lex blocked his path. The world spun even more around him, but he managed to stand his ground, however unsteadily.

Immediately, Clark's attention was diverted.

Sensing he had an edge, Lex began walking back into the room, forcing Clark to walk backwards. "Go, Dad," Lex said, keeping his voice calm and eyes on Clark.

"I want answers, Lex."

"You're not getting any from me right now. I have a date with my boyfriend." Clark was inside the room. Lex managed to step further inside, shutting the door behind him. Reaching out, Lex said softly, "I'm ok. I'm ok, angel, just come back to me. Please, just calm down."

Turning into Lex's trembling hand, Clark sniffed it, then licked up his arm to Lex's face. He spent a long moment rubbing his cheek against Lex's skin, kissing and soothing the bruises as if tasting the damage done. Then, whispering something in a language Lex didn't understand, Clark lifted Lex into his arms and carried him to the bed.

Lex almost threw up from the sudden movement. Moaning softly, he squeezed his eyes shut.

"Pleaseohpleaseohplease, God, don't let me throw up. Please."

Clark gently laid Lex on the bed, head resting on the pillows. "Shhh," he whispered, running his hand over Lex's head. His fingers gently trailed of Lex's cheeks, brushing over the planes lovingly, tracing Lex's lower lip.

Gasping, Lex opened his eyes, nausea subsiding. Clark was kneeling on the bed, legs on either side of Lex. His eyes were dark and flashing, cheeks flushed, lips parted slightly. His tongue slipped out and licked along his bottom lip as he placed his hands on Lex's collar.

"You've already ruined my favorite shirt, angel," Lex said softly, breath hitching. "You don't ..."

Clark ripped the shirt open, laying Lex's chest bare.

"Ok then." He smiled. "With the way you treat my shirts, it's a good thing that I'm rich."

His boxers were tugged off, tearing at the seams.

Lex hissed, the fabric burning his skin. "Clark ..."

One hand covered his mouth. Pressing his lips into Lex's temple, Clark shook his head. He hummed. Tongue touching the spot he had kissed lightly, Clark began to rain kisses over Lex's face. His tongue would each place he kissed, the wet spot practically the only indication that anything had been there. The touches were so feather light and quick, Lex was only left with the sense he'd been touched, trying to keep up with each brush of satin lips before they moved on.

Moving down, Clark nipped Lex's neck hard. Groaning, Lex opened his mouth, licking Clark's palm.

Sighing, Clark pulled his hand away and slipped his finger into Lex's mouth. Happy to have something to do, he sucked it greedily, eyes closed as Clark continued the perusal of Lex's battered body.

Continuing to sprinkle kisses on Lex's skin, Clark stretched out between his legs, nudging them further apart. Only too happy to oblige, Lex spread himself, groaning around Clark's finger when his cock was trapped between their bodies.

Clark's hot, wet mouth attached to Lex's right nipple. He began sucking hard, worrying the nub with his tongue until Lex was writhing on the bed, keening. The clever mouth continued to suck the over-sensitized nipple, making Lex's stomach contract with pleasure bordering on the sweetest agony he could wish for.

"Yes," he whimpered, reaching to thread his fingers in the soft black hair.

Clark growled, grabbing Lex by the wrists and pinning his arms above his head. Mouthing his way over to Lex's left nipple, Clark began sucking until Lex felt raw, nerves on fire.

Gasping, Lex lifted his hips off the bed, pushing his hard cock into Clark's stomach, trying to start a rhythm that would relieve some of the pressure. Making a noise deep in his throat, Clark bit Lex gently, causing him to cry out. Detaching from the nipple, Clark continued his way downward, paying close attention to the large bruise on Lex's stomach, laving it with his rough tongue with kitten-like licks, kissing it, and nuzzling his face against the painful mark.

"Oh, God, Clark," Lex moaned when Clark's tongue dipped into his navel. He raised his hips again, trying to convince Clark to stay, but his lover ignored the implied request and began traveling down again.

Sliding off Lex's body, Clark laid his head on Lex's thigh, studying the throbbing cock that was now free of the prison of their bodies. For a long moment he did nothing, simply studied Lex, eyes hungry and wild.

Lex began panting under the heavy gaze, needing the ethereal touch of eyes to turn into the substantial touch of flesh on flesh. "Please, touch me, Clark. Suck me off, fuck me, I don't care. I need ..." He slid his hips down to Clark, trying to encourage him to move.

Sitting up, Clark took firm hold of Lex's hips, bending over his body. Humming again, his broad tongue brushed over the weeping head of Lex's cock before he brushed down, tasting.

Gasping, Lex threaded his fingers in Clark's hair, holding tight.

Clark sat up making an angry noise deep in his throat. Yanking Lex's hands out of his hair, he threaded their fingers, pinning Lex's arms above his head again.

"Ne'yek," he ordered.

"Clark, I just want to touch you. That's all. Please."

He shook his head. "Ne'yek," he said again.

No.

Assured that his order would be followed, Clark bent over again, brushing faint kisses over Lex's cock.

"Stop teasing me," he moaned, head thrashing. "I need ... Fuck! Oh God." His chest constricted as Clark began mouthing Lex's swollen sack, taking it in his mouth and rolling it around.

Lex was gasping, feet skidding along the linen sheets, hands squeezing Clark's tightly as low, desperate sounds escaped his throat.

"Clark."

And then Clark was off him, one hand still laced through Lex's, the other gone.

Lex sat up, still holding Clark's hand. "Clark." He reached out and gently touched Clark's hair.

Clark, panting, shook his head sharply, pulling away. He had the tube of lube in his hand from earlier; squeezing it, he applied some to his cock. Then, placing his hand in the center of Lex's chest, he forced Lex down on his back.

Lex allowed himself to be pushed, heart pounding in his ears. Clark hadn't wanted to make love to him since the first time, when Clark had claimed him almost a month before. Lex had offered, done everything short of begging, but his lover had demurred.

And now, apparently, it was time for Lex to be claimed again; this time, though, it wasn't to remind Lex to whom he belonged. It was to make Lex whole again, comfort him for surviving the betrayal he had suffered.

At the moment, Lex didn't really care what had happened. His father could beat him all he wanted, as long as Lex got this to make up for it.

He squeezed Clark's hand, closing his eyes. "God, yes, Clark. God, I need you in me." He thrust as Clark's thigh brushed against his cock, groaning at the teasing pressure on it, needing more. Needing something ...

A searing pain ripped through him. Screaming, Lex arched off the bed as Clark tore him in two, entering Lex both mentally and physically. Pain and pleasure mixed as he was pounded into, as Clark plunged himself into the web, manipulating it, twisting it, forcing Lex to take the shape Clark needed, adjusting his mind just as he had already forced Lex's body to adjust.

Body ... Clark fit without any preparation and he was too big for Lex. Had been ...

The pain from Clark entering him was gone. Lex could feel Clark fucking him brutally, but it felt good, the slight pain overridden by the flood of pleasure caused by his lover moving smoothly inside him. Inside, where Clark fit perfectly, without preparation, without Lex having had anything inside him since Clark had last been there.

He fit. And he shouldn't have because Clark was big and Lex's passage wasn't. Or hadn't been.

Which meant that either Clark had shrunk in size or ... or ... or Lex had changed. Lex had changed to accommodate his lover at all times. Clark had changed him.

Lex shrieked, rising off the bed again as Clark _coursed_ through him. Clark was inside him, inside the sensory network, forcing himself in even as Lex tried to open himself further for Clark. It was painful, invasive, Clark flowing through his mind, his psyche, changing the shape, the form, the essence, moving the beads, the links and threads, each change causing Lex to whimper in pain. But it was right and Lex had to be changed and Clark wasn't asking anyway as he followed his own agenda.

The pain eased as Clark slowed, concentrating on thrusting physically into Lex as he sent a wave of soothing balm through the net. Sighing in relief, Lex lifted his hips, meeting Clarks thrusts. His heels pounded against Clark's ass as Lex cried and begged and pleaded for more to an alien mind who didn't understand him, couldn't understand him because he had finally been pushed over the edge by something that Lex had no control over.

A hysterical giggle rose in Lex's throat at he felt Clark began shifting through him again, forcing the links in the net apart or closer together, causing the most exquisite pleasure to flow through him as he cried tears of pain, only knowing that the two were the same and all that mattered was Clark. It was a joke to have thought he had control over this boy, this man, this alien who loved him. Lex never had control; he'd lost it when they first met and he'd given Clark his soul.

When the change had started, mind then body.

"Clark. Clark!" Lex screamed. His body was an open wound bleeding, a pulsing star of ecstasy.

Clark lifted Lex to him, finding his mouth. Sealing their lips, he exhaled gently into Lex, causing Lex to convulse.

Energy streamed from Clark into him, bubbles of hot lava that sizzled through Lex's veins.

Clark muttered into Lex's mind _Tal chi'ek._

Mine.

"Yes," Lex gasped out loud.

There was a crack that echoed through his head, a repeat of before, in the hall. Only this time, instead of blinding pain, a warmth seeped through Lex's skull, calming his muscles, making the pain fade.

Dad had broken his skull, Lex realized. Clark had healed him.

A hand closed over his throbbing cock, tugging roughly as Clark shifted his angle and began to pound roughly against Lex's prostate.

His fingers threaded through Clark's hair as Lex thrust into the hand, stomach in knots, groin tight as he rose over the crest, feeling Clark's heart beating through him.

Suddenly, something fell into place in Clark's eyes. They turned from midnight blue back to their normal color. Gasping, Clark blinked the sweat out of his eyes, hips still pistoning into Lex's, ecstasy written on his face.

"Lex," he whispered.

That moment of recognition sent Lex over the edge. Stomach clenching, pleasure flowed over his stomach to his cock, demanding release. "Yes!" Lex wailed, throwing his head back as he came.

Clark, tied into Lex's body, stiffened as well, pouring himself into Lex.

Lex could feel the liquid being absorbed into his body, rushing through his veins to his hurts to heal him.

 _Clark can do this. Clark can heal me,_ he thought wildly as the heaviness of exhaustion settled over him.

The last thing he heard before sleep claimed him was Clark's whisper in his mind _Piek ric._

My love.

***

Cool air blew across Lex's face. Sighing, he rolled onto his side, burying his face in the cool silk. The air smelled crisp and cold, with just the faintest hint of lavender to it. He'd always liked that smell. His mother had worn lavender scented perfume, so when she hugged Lex, it engulfed him. The smell never failed to calm him down, which was why he had put the candle ....

"Fuck," he whispered, snapping into full consciousness. Keeping his eyes shut, Lex blindly reached out, feeling the space around him.

His fingers collided with the satin covered headboard. Not wanting to believe, Lex traced the patterns sewed in, feeling lines and angles which he knew formed into stars. He felt one of the stars that was directly over his head, remembering the day that he's put it there. When Kal ...

"No!" Lex broke off the thought fiercely, tucking his hand under his armpit. "No, no, no, no, no. I am not here, dammit. Fucking God-dammit."

Another gust of air flowed over his skin, making him shiver.

Lex was suddenly having a hard time breathing. Squeezing his eyes shut so hard that he saw red, he fought to breath, trying to remember what he was supposed to do if he ever found himself here again.

"I'm at the mansion. In Metropolis," he said out loud. "Clark and I just had sex. I'm in bed with him now. I got so tired, I passed out. But I'm fine. I don't need to be ... no, that's not right." He rolled onto his back, wiggling until he felt more comfortable. Ignoring the fact that he could still feel the satin when he was really sleeping on linen, Lex cleared his throat and tried again. "I'm in my old bed, the one I slept in before I moved out. Clark is with me. When I wake up, I'll be in that room again. I will be at home in Metropolis, Clark by my side." With that assurance, Lex opened his eyes.

A high domed ceiling met his eyes. On it was painted the sky; it was night now, constellations scattered across it. In a few hours, Lex knew, it would brighten and turn to day, the sun shining through but not touching the room itself.

Sniffing, tears flooded his eyes. "No. I don't ... I don't want to be here. I don't need this!" he screamed at the ceiling. "They fucking lied to me! They said that I only came here when I wanted to escape, but I don't want to escape anything. I want to go home!"

"Lex?"

Heart pounding, Lex bolted up. There was no way Kal could be here. Kal had left long ago, before Lex's mother died, before the psychologists. One day he'd been here, happy smile on his face, the next day, he was gone.

"Lex, what's the matter?" Clark sat up, kissing Lex's cheek. Frowning, he brushed a tear away. "Why are you crying?"

Shakily, Lex touched Clark's face. "Clark?"

"Mmmm-hmmmm." Clark yawned and stretched. "Wow," he said when his eyes opened again. "This place looks different."

"No. It doesn't," Lex answered in despair. "It looks exactly the same. Except ..." he glanced around, taking in the furniture, toys, and the perpetually burning lavender scented candle next to the bed. All the same, except ... "Except the bed is bigger. I don't remember changing that."

Clark sat up. "What are you talking about? There was never any furniture here. It was just a black, empty plane before."

Lex wiped his nose. "No, Clark. This isn't where we meet when our minds connect. This is my own little delusional nightmare."

"What do you mean?"

Sighing, Lex stretched out on his stomach, gazing at the room. The toys were still there, scattered on the floor where Lex had left them. Kal had insisted on the toys, bringing a new one every time they met. Lex had never had much use for them, but the younger boy wanted to play; sometimes it were as if playing was a new thing to him. It was a foreign concept to Lex.

"No," he said out loud.

"No what?" Clark stretched out next to him, stroking along Lex's spine.

"There was no Kal. Not really. I made him up. He just ... I wanted to play," Lex explained, knowing that he sounded insane. "Dad only gave me war or mind games and I just ... those toys represent what I wanted. Nothing else."

Clark looked at the toys on the floor. "You wanted tractors and toy cars? And ... Barbie dolls?"

Lex laughed, burying his face in the soft comforter. It was made of down because it couldn't spark an asthma attack when it only existed in his mind.

"They told me I created this to escape the world. Any time things got too rough, I'd go to bed, fall asleep and come here." He shrugged, looking around.

"Who told you that?"

"The psychologists. The ones I had to see after I lost my hair." Lex sighed and wiped the last tears from his eyes. "I don't want to be crazy, Clark."

Soft lips pressed into the base of Lex's skull. "I don't think you are, Lex."

"Then why am I here?"

Clark sighed, resting his cheek on Lex's back. It was warm, spreading heat through Lex. He remembered that had always been the best part about the temperature of this place: Kal had skin like a furnace too, and he'd hold Lex whenever Lex was upset, making him warm all over.

"If you did create this--and I'm not sure you did--maybe you moved it to whenever we usually meet so we're more comfortable."

"Or maybe I've finally cracked, gone into a catatonic state, and dragged you along with me."

Clark shook his head and kissed Lex's spine again. "No. Because I feel too aware of what's going on. I mean, I can still feel myself asleep if I concentrate. Can't you?"

Lex closed his eyes. A moment later, he felt his body. "Yeah," he answered, feeling slightly calmer. "And I think I can wake up, too."

"Do you want to?"

"I don't know."

"Cause I don't. I like it here." Clark draped himself over Lex, resting his head on Lex's shoulder. "I think I've been here before.

He laughed in response. "That's impossible."

"No, I don't think it is. It ... it's really familiar. And I know I owned that Barbie." Clark pointed to a particularly well loved doll.

"And to think you laughed at me."

"You're not the Barbie type."

"And you are?"

"My parents gave me everything I wanted when they first got me. I think they wanted to make me feel like I belonged." Closing his eyes, Clark stretched. "This feels like home."

Lex shook his head. "No. It's too cold."

"If you don't like it, why did you make it so cold?"

"I don't know." Because Kal insisted, he finished silently.

A moment later the air around him warmed.

"There," Clark said, sounding pleased.

Lex rolled over. "What did you do?"

Guileless blue eyes gazed into his. "Made it warmer. I don't want you to be uncomfortable."

"But this is my mind. Who says you have control?"

He shrugged. "Share and share alike." When Lex didn't smile, Clark said, "Like I said, I think I've been here before."

"Oh yeah? Then what's it called?"

Clark frowned, brow furrowing. "Kiptin."

"How did you know that?" Lex shouted, pushing Clark off him. He got of the bed, legs shaking.

"I don't know. I just do. Lex ..."

Lex exhaled hard, sitting on the floor. "You got that from my mind. You had to."

"No. Lex, I've been here. When I was a kid. I .."

"I made it up!" Lex interrupted. " I created it. We're only here because I'm crazy!"

Clark got off the bed, taking Lex's face in his hands. "You're not crazy, Lex. You're not; it's ok. We'll figure it out, I swear. We'll .... What was that?" He looked at the ceiling, startled.

Lex wiped his eyes, looking up as well. "I think Damien is trying to wake me up. I should go."

"I'll come too."

"Yeah. Probably a good idea." He gazed at Clark a moment, not moving. Reaching out, he gently touched Clark's face. "You're not scared."

"No."

"Even with this? The psychologists tried to tell me ..."

"They were wrong."

"What if they weren't?"

Clark grinned. "That's fine. But from now on, we're meeting here when we connect mentally. That bed is cool."

Lex returned the grin. "I chose it especially for ... for a friend." He sighed. "I'll see you in reality," Lex said as he forced himself to wake.

There were hands on his face, pressing into his skin gently. "You can stop touching me now," Lex said, opening his eyes.

Damien continued to feel Lex's cheeks, sliding down under his neck to press against his glands.

Lex smacked them away, sitting up. "What the fuck are you doing?"

"Your father told me he beat you last night," Damien said.

Wiping his eyes, Lex responded, "Yeah? So?"

His assistant frowned. "Look in the mirror."

"What?" Lex turned. "Holy fuck." He pulled the covers off him; his stomach was healed as well.

"He said you were badly bruised. And, when I found him I ..." Hesitating, Damien shook his head. "I thought to wake you early to take you to the hospital. Apparently, there's no need."

One trembling hand touched his cheek. "No bruises. I'm fine."

"You'll need to leave before your father sees you. He told me what happened, and I explained the meteor rocks and mutations to him. He believed me, but, in lieu of studying Clark, I told him about Jeff Palmer and his abilities. Also, we have to share the findings on the rocks with him."

"That's fine. But we're going to need to keep a closer eye on Clark now."

Damien nodded. "Of course."

"What did I do?" Clark asked through a yawn.

"You healed me. It doesn't even look like Dad touched me last night." Lex dropped a kiss on Clark's forehead, then slid out of bed. Immediately, he winced, a dull ache burning through his body, through him.

Damien was at his side in an instant. "Sir?"

Clenching his jaw, Lex ground out, "I'm ok. I'm fine. Just a bit sore." It was more than sore; it felt as if he had run a marathon the day before without bothering to stretch or train beforehand. His head ached fiercely, throbbing with pain, his body sore, heavy, and weary.

"Lex?" Clark sounded worried.

Forcing a smile on his face, Lex assured him, "I'm all right, angel. We just played a bit roughly last night. I'm feeling it right now." He took a step, forcing himself not to grimace. His bruises were gone and skull fixed, but he hurt all over. Lex had a feeling that what his body was reacting to wasn't so much the sex--as rough as it had been--but whatever Clark had done psychically to him. He'd changed Lex, and no change ever came without a price.

"Your clothes are in the bathroom. Do you need any help?" Damien asked as he helped Lex limp to the door.

"No. I think ..." He broke off, wincing.

Damien's lips thinned.

"Clark? Stay in bed. I'll be out in a few minutes," Lex said.

"Ok."

Damien shut the door behind them, going to the shower. "Your pain pills are in my briefcase. You can have two of the lower dose, since you need to drive to Social Services to return the file."

Lex was brushing his teeth, trying to get the morning feel out of his mouth. "That's fine. I'm just a little sore," he said, spitting.

"You can barely walk. Do you need to go to the hospital?" Damien helped him step into the shower, keeping the glass door open.

Grunting, Lex rested against the cool tiles, letting the hot water hit his skin. "No."

"Are you sure?"

He nodded. "I just need warm water, pain pills, and a lot of rest."

Damien hesitated. "When I came back, your was in the hall. He demanded an explanation, and we retired to his room. We ... heard you screaming."

Sighing, Lex reached for the soap. "Great. Just what I've always wanted: my dad listening to me have sex."

"He left the room after a bit, going to another part of the house. I just wasn't sure if I should interrupt the two of you."

"Anytime you're feeling suicidal, feel free to interrupt us. But I can't promise it will be the six foot four alien that rips you in half." He washed his face, hands trailing down his chest tiredly.

"You weren't screaming in pleasure."

Rolling his eyes, Lex turned into the spray. "So you can still tell the difference, huh?"

"I must for my sexual activities." Damien looked amused when Lex turned back. "Of course, it does help to know that you are not a masochist. If you scream in pain, it is rarely because you enjoy it. What I heard last night wasn't the sound of a man receiving pain and loving it. Not at first, at any rate."

"It hurt. Not the sex, so much, as ...other stuff. And now I'm feeling the effects." Feeling angry at having to explain himself, Lex grabbed the washcloth and swiped at his shoulder blades.

"What did he do if not hurt you during sex?" Damien asked, taking the cloth from Lex's hand and rubbing hard yet soothing circles on Lex's tired back.

He sighed. "He, I don't know how to explain it. But whatever he did made it possible for him to heal me."

"Heal you," Damien repeated.

"Yes."

"Is this pain worth it?"

"What do you mean?"

Damien took a moment. "You say he can heal you, yet you are in pain. You can barely move. What if he is doing something more to you?"

"He healed me."

"He fixed what your father did to you. I'm not sure the state you've been reduced to isn't worse."

Lex laughed slightly. "I'm just sore, Damien. He didn't break me or even injure me all that much. This will fade a hell of a lot faster than the fractured skull Dad gave me would have."

Damien's hands froze. "He broke your skull?"

"I think so." Lex licked his lips. "Clark suddenly doesn't seem like such a bad guy, now, does he?"

"I don't think Clark is a bad person or influence on you. I'm just worried that you are getting into a situation you cannot control. Clark is an unknown; we don't know what he is or where he is from. Now he's doing something to you, and I don't like it. He's stronger than you. He can overpower you physically, mentally ..."

"Spiritually," Lex supplied.

"Is that the right word?" Damien squeezed Lex's shoulder, cloth going lower.

A shudder ran through Lex's body, tingles spreading from where Damien scrubbed. "Uh ... telepathically is probably the more correct term. He-we share this bond. We can communicate with our minds."

"Oh?" Damien's voice was dark and disapproving. Lex knew he was pissed that he hadn't been told about this before.

"Yeah," Lex said. "And he forced his way into me last night. Mentally." He bit his lip. "It wasn't physical pain. Well, some of it is; he fucked me hard, and I'm a bit sore from that. But it feels so good when he does it; I like that pain."

"Once you find the right top ..." Damien trailed off, sliding the cloth up Lex's spin. "No. That's not right. Your relationship isn't like that."

Lex shook his head. "No." He sighed, resting his head on the tiles. "I know it probably sounded like he was killing me, or raping me, but he wasn't. It was great, actually. And I'm sore today as a result. He didn't intend to hurt me."

"They almost never do."

An almost hysterical laugh escaped Lex's throat. "What's it going to take to convince you that I'm fine? He's not abusing me! He's Clark, for Christ's sake."

"Sir ..."

"Look, I know he was scary last night." Lex turned. You saw him almost kill Dad, then heard me screaming. But I swear to God he wasn't rough." Lex bit his lip, clearing his throat. "This is going to sound crazy, but Clark did something to me. He's manipulated whatever part of me makes me telepathic. Changed all that so he could, I don't know, heal me, talk to me. I don't know. But, he did it physically too. Not this time, and not on purpose. But he changed me."

"What do you mean?" Damien's face was hard.

Lex shrugged. "My body changed, Damien. That's why he fit. He's too big to get in without a lot of preparation. The first time he was in me, I froze up and we had to start over. This time without stretching me; he just slid in like he belonged there. And, yeah, it hurt but not because of his size."

After a moment, Damien said, "I see." His eyes were almost black. "Where does it stop, sir? When do you draw the line? Before or after he destroys you?"

"He's not going to destroy me," Lex said sharply.

"He's already begun to change you." Damien's voice was just as sharp. "What if this is only the beginning? You cannot achieve your destiny if you are mangled, or altered beyond recognition."

Snatching the washcloth from Damien, Lex ground out, "Maybe my destiny is to be with him. Maybe it's to be whatever he makes me into." He didn't believe what he was saying--didn't really believe that Clark would alter him beyond what had already happened--but he was pissed.

"This is not the destiny I signed onto."

"Then maybe you should leave."

"I can't. I took a vow to protect you, to stand by your side and make sure you succeed. It is not something I can easily break."

"Then you need to get used to the fact that Clark is part of that destiny. As is what he's doing to me." Smiling slightly, he added, "For all we know, it's a good thing. He's helping me evolved into something greater--still human, but stronger, faster, healthier. More like him."

The anger faded a bit from Damien's face. "Perhaps. But I still want you to be careful."

"Aren't I always?"

"Not when it comes to him."

Smiling, Lex shook his head. "Maybe not. But that's why I have you to watch out for me. And, normally, you do a good job. But remember something, Damien."

"Yes, sir?"

"You harm a hair on his head because you think it will help me, I will kill you." His voice shook slightly. Lex had thrown around the threat in the past, but, before, he'd always meant he'd have someone killed. This time, he meant he'd kill Damien himself. It wasn't a threat Lex made lightly.

Raising an eyebrow, Damien nodded slowly, hearing what Lex meant. "Very well. But remember this: I will stop at nothing to have you succeed. Even if it means my death."

"What good is my success if you aren't there to see it?"

"What good will all my sacrifices have been if you do not succeed?" Damien countered.

Not able to think of a response, Lex swallowed hard, gazing at his assistant.

Damien smiled slightly, breaking the darkness that had settled around them. "But we are speaking of abstractions, sir. Clark only poses a possible threat; he is not one now, nor is he likely to be one anytime soon. And, since he is your choice, I can do nothing but protect him as I do you." He cleared his throat. "Which brings us away from that, and to a more pressing matter: why are you so agitated this morning?"

Images of Kiptin and all its implications flooded Lex, making him feel nauseous. Trying to shake the feeling away, he said, "No reason. I'm fine."

"You let me wash your back. You let me touch your for nearly ten minutes, and only complained once. Something is wrong."

He turned away. "I don't want to talk about it."

"Sir ..."

"I'm fine," Lex practically shouted, voice shaking. Taking a deep breath, he began washing his neck. "What's the plan to get the file back?"

Damien took a moment before answering. Lex knew that he was studying him, wanting to know what was going on. Luckily, it appeared he knew now was not the time to press and, instead, answered Lex's question. "You'll meet Charlotte Wiggins at the Starbucks across the street from Social Services at seven o'clock, which gives you almost an hour. She's the one to whom Dominic had taken the file, and she will 'discover' it again around eleven today."

"And how much are we paying her?"

"Ten thousand dollars."

"From which account?"

"Mine."

"You'll be compensated."

"Of course." Damien hesitated, then cleared his throat. "Would you consider seeing a doctor? For peace of mind?"

Closing his eyes, Lex sighed. "I really don't want to see Dr. Pierce."

"I wouldn't think to suggest that. I know what he did, injecting you on your father's orders. I am sorry for making you see him."

Lex shrugged. "Yeah, well. They planned it well, didn't they? Dr. Pierce would have wanted to see me because he can't bring himself to believe what the allergy tests are saying--or he's using them to study me--so neither of us was suspicious when he scheduled his appointments. Plus, Victoria was poisoning everyone so it seemed safer to see him, since he is in Dad's pocket, in case she somehow got to me." He rubbed his eyes. "Still I won't see him; I don't want Toby to, uh, look where you want checked out. He can take care of surface wounds that the like, I have my limits. So unless you have a suggestion ..." Lex trailed off, eyes narrowing. "You have a suggestion."

"Dr. Aimee Sutton. She flew over last night from Greenwich."

"You work fast. Is she trustworthy?"

"Enough to suit our needs."

He sighed. "Yeah, ok. I'll see her."

Damien smiled faintly. "Thank you. She will meet you at your apartment after your meeting with Ms. Wiggins."

"Fine."

"Sir, please remember, when you meet the Kents today, don't tell them what happened last night. Mr. Kent might ..."

"Damien? Do you think I'm an idiot?"

"Sorry, sir." He stepped back from the shower. "I need to speak to Clark. Finish washing up."

Lex smiled, rolling his eyes. "Yes, sir."

***

Clark wiped his eyes as Damien stepped back into the bedroom. Rising from the bed, he asked, "Is Lex ok?"

Damien, face neutral, shrugged. "Sore, tired, and in a lot of pain, but he will recover."

Tears welled in Clark's eyes. "Did I hurt him? I d-didn't mean to. I just ... I had to make him better and was so angry about what Lionel did, that I guess I wasn't thinking."

"He said you forced something in him to change."

"What?"

"Forced him to change. And that hurt him."

"I didn't mean to! Hurt him, I mean. I never wanted to hurt him!" Clark protested, tears falling from his eyes. "I ..."

"And yet, this is the second time you have."

Exhaling hard, Clark reached into his backpack and pulled out his flannel. Shrugging it on and buttoning it, Clark said, "He liked the first time. If he'd told me to stop, I would have, no matter what he--or you--might think. Yeah, my thinking becomes muddled; I know that I start getting really ... alien, but I can feel what Lex feels. If he freaked out, or was in too much pain and needed me to stop, I would. Right away."

Damien raised an eyebrow. "Then why did you continue to do whatever it was that reduced him to the state he is in now?"

Clark shrugged. "I can't explain it exactly. It was instinct, and I still don't understand it. All I know is, I had to do what I did in order to heal him. The pain he's feeling will fade, but now, when he's hurt, I can help him." He met Damien's eyes. "I only want to protect him, too. Just like you, I only want what's best for Lex. He gets hurt so much; now I can make him better. And I think a few hours, or days, of soreness is worth that."

There was a long pause as Damien and Clark gazed at each other. After a moment, Damien nodded. "Very well. I am sorry I accused you of trying to hurt him."

"You didn't know," Clark said, pulling on a sweater. "Thank you for trying to protect him."

Damien seemed amused. "Of course." Then he frowned as Clark pulled out another flannel and began buttoning it over the sweater. "Are you all right?"

"Yeah," Clark said vaguely, concentrating on the buttons.

"You don't ... have to dress. You and I aren't leaving for another few hours."

Tears began to well in Clark's eyes again as his chest grew tight. "I just ... felt I should get dressed. I need ..." Clark trailed off, blindly reaching for another shirt from his pack.

"Clark," Damien said softly, kneeling in front of him, staying his hand.

Clark sniffed, trembling.

"I wanted to tell you that I am proud of you. Mr. Luthor--Lionel--told me what you said to him. It was exactly the correct thing to say."

"I was just doing what you told me to. I ..." He broke off, the tears beginning to fall in earnest. Holding back sobs, Clark sat up, covering his face, hands hidden beneath his sleeves.

The bed dipped as Damien sat next to him. His hand rubbed his hand up Clark's back. "It's all right. Shhh. Don't cry."

"He was going ... going to r-rape me. He ... I knew you said that he might try, but he ... he was ... and he kissed me and I just feel ..." He broke off in a sob.

"I know. What he did was unforgivable. I am sorry you had to go through that. I never should have left."

"B-but what if you had, and he hurt you too, and then he did it? More? Everything? I ... I don't know if I would have been able to tell anyone."

Damien stroked Clark's hair. "Why not?"

"Because I would have known I could stop him."

"That would have been a perfectly valid option. Both Lex and I would have fully supported you had you used your strength and other abilities to protect yourself."

Clark sniffed. "Except I couldn't. I froze. I had no idea what to do and I was so scared. And now ..."

"Now what?"

Clark didn't answer, wiping his eyes again.

"Are you ashamed?" Damien asked after a long silence.

He nodded minutely.

Taking Clark's face in his hands, Damien forced Clark to look up at him. "You have nothing to be ashamed of, Clark. No, listen to me," he said sharply as Clark opened his mouth. "I know you feel very grown up, and the weight of the world often rests on your shoulders, but you are still young. And Lionel Luthor is very intimidating. Even the best of us get scared."

"You wouldn't."

"I am not a fifteen year old boy. It was not your fault. It only happened because Lionel Luthor is a ruthless man who will do anything to make his point. Even take advantage of a young boy."

Clark licked his lips, tears still falling freely. "He said I was beautiful, and that he was going to enjoy ... doing what he was going to do to me." Biting his lips, Clark looked up at Damien. "Do you think ... think I'm good looking?"

Sighing, Damien pulled back. "Yes."

"Would you ... want me like that?"

"Please don't ask me." He sounded annoyed, his jaw clenching slightly.

"Damien? I need to know. Was he right?"

Sighing again, Damien looked down, then back at Clark. "Of course he was right; you are beautiful. But I don't want you. You are too young for me."

"But ... if I were older? Or," Clark got a sudden thought, "Or if you didn't know how old I was, and you just met me somewhere and didn't know I was with Lex?"

"Clark ..." Anger was in Damien's dark eyes; Clark knew he was pushing Damien, but he didn't care. He had to know.

"Just tell me."

Damien closed his eyes. When he opened them again, the edge of anger was gone, replaced by a cool impassiveness. "Yes. If I knew nothing about you, I would pursue you. However, I would never force you. Your looks may elicit attention and cause people to want you, but nothing gives anyone the right to try and force themselves on you. You may be lovely to look at, but the reason Lionel did what he did has nothing to do with your looks and everything to do with the fact that Lionel is a monster."

Wiping his eyes, Clark looked down, cheeks hot. "You just said that for my benefit."

"What?"

"That Lionel is a monster. You don't really believe that."

Shrugging, Damien said, "Actually, I do. Perhaps monster is strong, but I do believe he is an utter fool worthy of contempt." His voice was scornful and hard. "I can accept a lot about people and what they do on the road to achieving power. What Lionel is doing gratuitous and unnecessary. This entire scheme to hurt your father is detrimental in the long run. Your father is no threat to him. Lionel is doing this out of personal pride. And I cannot respect that." Eyes softening slightly, Damien smoothed a curl back from Clark's face. "And I cannot respect what he did to you."

Looking back down at the bedspread, Clark licked his lips. Tears began filling his eyes again, blurring his vision. "Please don't tell my parents. And don't make me tell them. Please."

Damien touched his cheek gently. "It is not my story to tell. I will leave it up to you."

Clark, needing something, threw his arms around Damien and hugged him hard. "Thank you," he whispered, some of the ache in his heart easing. "Thanks."

***

"Once again, we are so very sorry for the mix up," Michelle was saying, shaking Jonathan's hand.

He cleared his throat. "You should be. Perhaps you might want to look at hiring more competent people." His eyes flicked to Charlotte, who was standing in the background.

"I'm sure that Ms. Wiggins is perfectly competent," Lionel protested, an hard glint in his eyes. "Let's see you trying to run an organization such as this. On government funds, no less." Then he grinned at Michelle. "No offense."

Michelle rolled her eyes. "No, believe me, it's fine. There are days that I can't help but think that if the government would just leave us to run this office the way we see fit, things would go much easier."

"Of course." Lionel's voice was smooth and comforting.

Shuddering slightly, Clark stepped closer to his mother. Sensing his discomfort, she held him tightly, kissing his cheek. Behind him, Damien touched his back lightly.

Clark felt better, but still avoided looking at Lionel. The older man had taunted him all morning until Damien had called a halt to it. But even Damien couldn't stop Lionel from looking at Clark; every time he did, Clark felt that paralysis creep over him, making him helpless. It was worse than the meteor rocks.

"I'm just glad it's over," Martha said, kissing Clark again. "Now we can take you home and get back to our lives."

Michelle nodded. "Yes. I'm glad we found the file quickly. I would have felt terrible to have put you through all that for months, only to find out that Clark is exactly who you say he is. Not that I doubted you, exactly," she hastened to reassure them.

"Of course," Jonathan responded dryly.

"Can we go. Please?" Clark asked, feeling queasy as Lionel looked at him again.  
Michelle nodded. "Of course." She held her hand out to Clark. "It was very nice to meet you, Clark, even under these circumstances."

Dutifully, Clark shook her hand. "Thanks," he said awkwardly, trying not to look at Lionel.

She squeezed his hand, then stepped back. "I hope you have a good drive home."

"Thank you." With a final handshake from the Kents, they left quickly.

Lionel didn't speak until they were standing outside. Then, blocking Jonathan's path, he said, "Congratulations."

Jonathan smiled. "Why thank you."

"You may have won this time, but this isn't over."

"Somehow I was expecting you to say that. You're getting rather predictable in your old age."

Lionel smiled dryly. "Very witty. Your cleverness grows each time we meet. Just remember, next time I won't be stupid enough to bring in unpredictable elements. I'll keep it personal."

Jonathan smile sadly. "It always has been, Lionel. You made it so." Then, stepping around him as if Lionel were nothing, the Kents piled into the limo.

Damien stuck his head in. "I'm staying in the city tonight," he told Lex softly. "I should be back early."

Lex nodded, leaning against Clark. "Yeah, ok. Make sure to tell Dom thanks." It was practically a whisper, even though Lionel had already taken off angrily.

"I will." Stepping back, Damien closed the door. A moment later, the limo pulled away.

Clark sighed, and pulled Lex tighter against him, snuggling against his mother at the same time. "Are we going home?"

Martha and Jonathan exchanged glances. "Well," Martha began, "we thought about staying in town until this evening. Maybe seeing the sights. Doing something fun."

"Ever been to the science museum?" Lex asked.

"No. This is only my second time in Metropolis," Clark said, perking up.

Lazy blue eyes smiled into his. "They've got a great astronomy exhibit."

"Mom? Dad? Please?" Clark all but bounced in his seat.

Jonathan nodded, smiling. "Why not? We're here, the farm's taken care of for the day. We should have some fun as a family." The last was said very casually, eyes barely brushing past Lex as he said it.

Clark caught it and grinned. Leaning down, he kissed the top of Lex's forehead and said, "You're right, Dad. We should."


End file.
